As The Autumn Leaves Fell
by TheOne16th
Summary: In the time that Filia has, all will be broken by her wish piece by piece. The truth is hidden but not forever. How long before Carol knows her friend's torment? How long before Filia finally completes the price for Carol's freedom? Apparently, a nun says two weeks.
1. Prologue: A Dream

**Prologue: A Dream**

_Where was she?_

It was dark, pitch black dark. Last Carol remembered was… No, she can't even remember that part anymore, the part of how she got here. She felt like she was floating, like in a void, like in space, where you don't feel the ground and don't feel the touch of the air, like her body was only a weightless shell.

_Was this a dream? _No, it can't be, she knew somehow that it wasn't, but a part of her refuses to accept that this is real.

She tries to open her eyes, but she can't, like a certain kind of fear stopped her from doing so. It constrained her with invisible chains and locks.

How did she even get here? Even that she couldn't remember. It was frustrating not to know the answer, even more frustrating to be stuck in a place that she didn't even know of.

She reaches out for any thought, any vivid memory at all, but the more she reached out, the more she forgot, the more she lost even the ability to reach out. Was this how it felt like to be stuck, to be out of her mind?

Carol remembered only her name and what she was, but then things began to fleet like a sailing ship that ever so slowly left into the unending horizon. It was getting impossible to even try to recall.

_Buer… Skull… Girl… Parasite… La b Zero… Valentine… Brain… Drain… Abandonment… Rage… Fury… Loneliness… Filia… Help…_

What were these words, these vague pieces? Carol thought. She held on to them, fearing for these fragments of memory will be the only things she'll ever remember as she floated endlessly in this mysterious abyss that drained her mind. Though the words stayed for a minute, she cannot make them stay forever. Something stops her, some words slowly fall down and disappear, and some began to just disappear all together.

Her mind was emptying, and the frustration sinks down. And now, she felt lonely, because there was no one to think of, not even herself. Her feelings stayed, but thinking seemed impossible.

Everything grew helpless… She felt helpless… And now, she was afraid, lost, and lonely. How did she end up in this cruel void? This… darkness that she had descended into without even knowing how she got there? She wanted to scream, but she could not. A paralysis was taking her, immobilizing every nerve and muscle, every reflex and movement that might remind her that she was in control. Breathing was growing so difficult, and soon, it would be impossible…

For maybe an hour, she was stuck in this madness, suffering under the suffocation that could not kill her. She couldn't even struggle, letting the darkness take her… She was innocent, but this seemed inevitable.

She would've been very happy to die, but even that she couldn't do. The suffocation was strangling, the suffering growing, and she could not struggle, not even give up. Freedom… It's what she needed, but she could not even fight for such a hopeful feeling…

As the words fell, she heard the last one escape. A dying thought to take the place of her final breath. _Help…_

And as it seeped down from the depths of her mind and into the depths of this abyss, a great flash overtook the darkness. Her eyes were opening yet they were closed… She could see now, not words, but a picture.

Her friend, her only friend, the sweet tender smile that granted solace, and eyes with a red-hot core that resonated warmth, young and full of endless energy. She was the only person Carol knew that would never abandon her.

It was all returning to her now.

Control… Freedom… She can open her eyes now. The invisible chains released and broke, the locks unlocked, and the suffocation lifted with a lungful of air. Everything seemed to flow back… And then,

She woke up.

* * *

Author's Note: Been a long time, eh? Sorry about being inactive for some time. I've been busy lately, school and all. Well, thanks for reading this chapter and please leave a review if you want to.

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership over the video game Skullgirls.


	2. Behind a Veil: An Empty Calmness

**Behind a Veil: An Empty Calmness**

_A Forgotten Memory_

_A bright light is all there is. A shadowed face hovered above her. There was a cold numbness that encompassed her skin, coldest at spots where the wires entered her flesh._

_Her voice shivers and begs to sob, but it only becomes as small as a hush… _

_"Where does the end of pain lie?" She whispered with what she thought were the last breaths of her life._

_Silver glinted, the shine of the object grazed her eye—a scalpel, brandished by a shadowed hand._

_"Simple," A female voice said "Where it hurts the most."_

* * *

Carol awakened with her eyes still closed. She took a good breath and a fresh breeze of fulfilling air travelled into her, signifying that she was fully conscious, and finally, in control. Thank the Gods above. It was just a nightmare, another nightmare... another calling from the long gone. This time, it was louder, like the nightmare further deformed itself into something much more horrid: an omen that was a harbinger of more suffering.

She didn't accept that and there was no way she could. Carol reminded herself that all the suffering was over, that it was now barred behind a metal door in her head. But sometimes, when she slept, something would tap, knock, and pound at the iron, accompanied by a muffled faint scream—her own scream, a mutilated version of her voice, which amplified the pain and anger—escaping from behind the door, begging for release. Whenever the nightmare arrives, the pounding stops, the scream silences, the door opens, and the blackness pulls her into its embrace.

What was long-gone still remained there in her sleep, behind that vault, like a damned ghost that slumbered in the abysmal ends of her past despair. It was a reaper, a scar, an old acquaintance that visited so that his name wouldn't be forgotten… That's what it was, but when it came, it was a sharp rusting blade with a jagged razor-edge that cut into her peace and violently released what Carol had sealed on the other side of that door: the fear, the despair, and Painwheel.

Apart from the other pieces of her past that manifested in the metal that flowed in her veins and that rested in her cello case, this was the only haunting memento, the only shred of her past that scared her to no end. It was the same feeling during those painful days—trapped, confused, lost, possessed, and forced to fight.

The darkness, the paralyzing chains and locks, and the endless suffocation in a realm of void and silence… It was Carol's taste of Hell. Damn the Trinity if she were to spiral-down once more into such painful inferno and mind-numbing insanity. Never again would she return to a downfall, a fear, a suffering that would've made her very much happy to lose her life if she had lost her bloody struggle.

Although the nightmare began with the same person, it seemed to always end with a different one. It was always Carol who would be pulled into that despairing realm, but it was always Filia who opened the door to pull Carol out of the abyss. When the door opens, there was Filia and there was light, the same light that now surrounded the walls of her eyelids. It was a hot feeling that tickled and burned just a bit for her to feel it through her eyes. Sunlight. Yes, it was sunlight.

Carol's awakening had been touched by sunlight, the sunlight that she wanted to be free to admire and to idle under during the last Skull Girl incident. Though it was only a few days after her miraculous release from the restraints of the ASG Labs, she was getting used to the sun's fiery caress still, for being in the shadow for too long had numbed her senses and turned what was now a mere ray of solar light into a pleasant luxury.

She opens her eyes, and there it was. A great sky devoid of all clouds, the dominion in which the doves that perched on Canopy Keep soared through, and the deep color that was the color of Carol's freedom; it was all above her, an opening through the blanket of leaves of the maple tree Carol had rested under for shade. She was about to admire such view but then an interruption pierced her ears.

Carol turned her head as she covered her ears, realizing what really woke her. A loud booming sound of car horns and grumpy old men giving each other rallies of marital and personal insults. By the Trinity, for a silent neighborhood housing some retired veterans, they still seemed to be at war to the very end. Their grizzled, grumpy voices that once shouted orders from across the battlefield as men left-and-right died to artillery and gunfire rudely interrupted the silent calm of Maplecrest.

The two cars, one pickup truck and a van, and their busy schedules that need not be interrupted by a fist-fight protected the two old men from reminiscing their old days of service and limited them to exchanges of raging car horns and offensive hand gestures.

"Your wife can't cook worth a damn!" Came a voice of an ancient hillbilly inside the pickup truck.

"Bah! She cleans better than your messy hag! It's no wonder why there's muck all over your furniture!" Was the reply from another old veteran voice with an accent that reflected refinement.

They went on and on, until Carol couldn't understand what they would say. She wondered for a moment that if they were to fight again, would they be as strong as they used to be or would their long absence in combat finally show them how much they wore down? She thought the latter was more probable, but time went on and they only dared to step out their vehicles, not exiting them. This petty argument was more annoying than the sunlight that was heat to her skin, but still, to see a sight such as this, it reminded her well that she was here in the outside world filled with mysteries, comedies, and average life—away from what was long gone.

The fighting stopped and one car moved after another, with their insults trailing off with the dust and smoke of the exhaust. Carol never really knew what those old blokes were fighting over for, but she was glad that was done. She looked around and only then realized the clattering of a thousand drying leaves to the gentle tide of the wind and the silhouetting branches above her that danced a slow bob to the same tide.

The streets were empty for now save for the scattered autumn leaves that took flight along with the current wind. Autumn was beginning, and the leaves that were now moving along the cement were but the droplets of what would be the flood of browning leaves during mid-Fall.

For a moment, there was a kind of quiet that was made out of sound, the sound that was the soft lulling idleness of nature. It didn't try to show any beauty, but Carol took another lungful of the fresh air and relaxed as she listened to this certain kind of quiet, as if there was something special to the soft clattering of the leaves, the refreshing air of the wind, and the sunlight which was beginning to soothe her rather than irritate her.

With the arguing old veterans gone, the leaves, the branches, the sunlight, and the wind let another feeling urged Carol to slip back into slumber. It was what she found out to be the beauty hidden in this quiet atmosphere all along. It was peace.

There was a window of light above her, a window with moving walls of leaves. It peered towards the cloudless ultramarine heaven above, the same window that she had opened her eyes to.

A shade was veiling her from the sun a while ago, but now there was a shaft of sunlight reaching down towards where she had rested, giving a faint glow to the drying grass. If the Trinity itself was to descend from the sky, this might be the spot where they would come and unleash their awe manifested in a golden beam that pinnacled towards the heavens. Carol thought how long she had slept for the sun to finally move in and peek down upon her through a leafy window.

The searing glow of the sunlight lessened as Carol's eyes naturally adjusted. She looked up to that very window and saw a sole branch that was like a crooked windowsill to this portal of light. She smiled a small smile. How could she forget? Filia had once rested on that branch, her once blonde hair hanging down, her arms crossed behind her head, her body resting on the tree's ancient arm, and her eyes gazing towards the cloudless blue sky with much innocence. It was the first time Carol ever saw her.

* * *

"Hey!" a little Carol said to a strange girl stared towards the blue canvas above her with eyes that dared to close.

Carol was clothed in a small dirty-white dress that had a small skirt for the occasion of picking flowers that grew near the tree, but then for the first time, she had noticed a girl with a similar dress with a bluish color resting on a branch. All along as Carol visited this tree daily, this girl would be just above her. They never noticed each other, until now.

Though her voice was loud and shrill, the girl on the branch did nothing, only to annoy the curious little brown-haired girl below her. Carol waited for an answer. Frustration was about to get the best of her until the girl's weak response finally arrived.

"What?" She said, like a whisper that edged Carol's earshot.

The frustration faded as Carol received her answer. "What are you doing up there?" Carol said, a childish curiosity rising.

"Wondering." The girl said, the only word to have escaped her trance.

"Wondering over what?" Carol rested her back on the tree's trunk, her head still looking up towards the strange girl.

"The sky." She said. "It looks nice up there. A bird can fly and no one can stop it from flying."

Carol was silent for she had no response. She didn't understand what the girl meant. Who in the kingdom would even wonder about it? "I know that. Why are you even thinking about that?"

"Because a person can't fly but someone can stop him from flying." The girl said, continuing to gaze off into the sky.

Carol giggled. "I don't know what that's supposed to mean." She said. "You should really stop staring into the sky, or it might stare back to you, and that's scary."

"What? The sky would grow eyes?" The girl's voice finally emerged slightly louder with a smile evident through the tone. "And it would stare at me and tell me to stop staring at it?"

Carol smiled. "Maybe and that would be scarier, don't you think?" She said. "Say, what's your name?" Carol asked, realizing that they had talked without knowing each other.

The girl averted her gaze, pulling her away from her little trance. As she shifted into a sitting position she said "Filia. How about yours?"

"I'm Carol. Nice to meet you." Carol took a good look at her. It occurred to her that she had never seen Filia in Maplecrest before. Perhaps she must've moved here not long ago.

She looked almost as innocent as Carol was. Blue irises, long blonde hair, and lips that could do the most condescending smirk was what Carol saw, and what Filia saw was a little girl with hazelnut irises, brown hair, and the most innocent smile.

It was the first time their eyes made contact. Filia smiled at her, and Carol smiled back. From there on, a friendship bloomed.

It was a fleeting memory. She couldn't remember much of the days before her disfiguration. Some memories were taken away and never found again, and others came back but were never as true as they were. So much has changed, she had realized, and it almost felt like that the life she had now was something new, not something recovered. It was unfair. It wasn't fair that her monstrous transformation had taken away the brightest of her memories, similar to how the blackened veins filled with Gae Bolga had marred the whiteness of her skin. It wasn't fair that her change hadn't spared her good memories but only left the dark ones. It would never be the same, but that no longer mattered.

She looked more of a monster now, she thought. An experimental subject dressed in a schoolgirl's uniform was how she looked like to many. What was once a healthy network of veins now bulged and travelled under her skin like black rivers, what were once pretty hazelnut-brown irises were now colored a bright red, and a face that was once had a flawless smile was now scarred with an "X" to truly mark her as an ASG subject. She was no longer human and that was a fact she was well aware of. Many feared her knowing that she was far different from a normal human—even her own classmates and as far as her own parents .They all began to treat her differently.

So much has changed about her. It was hard for her not to see herself as a disfigured soul. But here she was, just a while ago picking flowers, sleeping under a maple tree, and now admiring the orange beauty of autumn. She reminded herself—the suffering was over.

* * *

A plastic ceiling fan spins above them.

"She's taking forever," said Samson, his deep gritty voice hinting some impatience. "Are you sure she didn't forget to go here?" He (Samson didn't prefer being called as an "it") was Filia's biological parasite, who was always attached to her head as usual, creating a dark violet mimic of what was once golden blonde hair. His yellowish eyes were parallel to Filia's ears and his mouth jutted with large curved teeth, making what seemed like the world's most exotic headband. He was, in a simple way, a talking second face.

He had made his usually hard tendrils into sloppy threads, resembling hair so that Filia can rest her back without the discomfort of Samson's natural stiffness.

Filia, who laid herself down on a couch, was reading a book with wide-eyes, intrigued by what she was reading. She spared Samson little attention. "I'm pretty sure she hasn't." She said. "Carol must've slept under the tree again."

Her house was small, well, it wasn't particularly a house, but it was more of an apartment room with white walls, white light, a sustaining kitchen, one bedroom, a bathroom, and simple furniture. It was enough for Filia to call it home, even though it wasn't particularly her home.

"Your friend really likes to doze-off doesn't she?" Samson said "She's picking flowers here and there and then suddenly she just rests down a tree and goes to sleep, completely forgetting her schedule."

Filia smiled and flipped a page on her book. "What can you do? She loves nature, Samson."

Samson was always annoyed by Carol's love for nature, particularly because she would place flowers on him whenever he was asleep to decorate Filia's 'hair'. He never liked having accessories placed on him because 1.) He wasn't hair, and 2.) He has disdainful feelings for 'girly' stuff which Filia and Carol would never understand.

"Can't we go check on her and see if a branch fell on her head and slipped her into a coma?" Samson said.

She sighed. "Just wait for her Samson. She's always been here when she says she will."

"But then she always comes late." He said. "Why can't she just tell us she'll arrive an hour _after_ the time she'll be here?"

Filia had no response for that. It was just how Carol was anyway and Samson wouldn't understand that as much as Filia did. She drowned her attention towards Samson with her attention towards her book. Unfortunately, Samson was used to such countermeasures.

Noticing that Filia extinguished her focus over the conversation because she had no answer for his question, Samson slipped one tendril out Filia's back and took her book away. He raised it up out of Filia's arm's-reach. It now hung above her, wrapped in one of Samson's smaller tendrils.

"Hey!" Filia said as she did futile attempts to grab the book away from Samson's grasp. "Give it back!" She eventually gave up when Samson had stretched it far out of her reach and to the back of her head.

Samson took a glance at the book. "What are you reading anyway?" He narrowed his eyes and read one paragraph. "What in the Trinity is this supposed to mean?" He had great difficulty reading. Samson had always thought that the human language was a hard language to read, but that didn't stop him from reading.

"Is this a book about romance again?"He said. "Why can't you read something fun like 'The Reign of Blades'?"

"I'd rather not right now."Filia said. "I'm not into blood and lust for power."

"That's what makes it fun." Samson said. "This book's boring. Tell me when you get to the part with guns." He then placed the book back on Filia's stomach and returned his tendril to the mass of fake hair.

There was silence and Filia opened her book once again. Fortunately, Samson was kind enough to drop the book opened to the page where he had interrupted Filia. Minutes passed and Samson decided to keep his impatience to himself.

The ticking of a clock... It was the only sound in the room, faint yet heard. Filia's eyes travel out of reading the book then upward to look at the clock. The short arm was edging towards 5 PM, with the long arm nearing the 12th mark. Now did she notice that time was dragging on. For her and Samson, time mattered differently for them than it would be for Carol and almost anyone else. The machine continued to tick and the sound didn't go unnoticed in Filia's ears.

"Samson" Filia said to break the momentary quiet. "When will we tell her?"

"Tell her what?" He said. "Tell her that you got a bad taste in book genres?"

She smiled a bit. Filia had this unnatural tolerance for Samson's comments. "No no, not that… About the Skull Heart."

Samson went stiff for a second and thought of what to say. "I don't know, kid." He really had no opinion over when. All he knew is that if Filia went down, he will have to do so as well. The Skull's power corrupts all those who are biologically attached to the Skull Girl.

Thoughts were racing in her head, taking away her focus and mood to read. Filia laid her book down. "I'm just afraid… She'll hate me for not telling her."

"We don't know yet, but at least you haven't said anything about it so you won't have to lie your way out." Samson said.

She would hate lying to Carol, her only friend. Samson assured Filia that there was nothing to worry about because Carol didn't ask anything for Filia to lie through. But Filia wondered still, 'Can a person lie without saying anything?' She wanted to ask Samson, but she wouldn't want to hear an answer.

The doorbell rang a momentary buzz. "Finally!" Samson said, jumping away from their serious topic. "Where are we going to go this time?" When it wasn't time to fight, Samson had an interest for seeing the sights of the kingdom, eating, scaring people on the street, and scaring people Filia had happened to talk to.

"Coming!" Filia said with a sing-song tone, taking her book and resting it on the cushion before standing up.

She opened her door with a smile. Filia's mouth went agape, but quickly tightened. Samson went stiff and pointed his tendrils towards the visitor. It wasn't Carol. It was an all too familiar nun.

Her eyes were closed and she stood upright like a statue. Before Filia or Samson could've reacted, the nun opened her eyes to Filia, a smile on her face.

"You have two more weeks, child." Double said, before she morbidly split herself into two to evade Samson's bladed tendril that went straight for her chest.

* * *

Author's Note: And so it begins...

Leave a review if you want to, fave or follow if it suits you, and thanks for reading this chapter. See you on the next one.


	3. Behind a Veil: Anathema and Solace

**Behind a Veil: Anathema and Solace**

_Her Introduction_

_She was splitting in half to reveal the creature beyond. It was like an inner tongue grotesquely emerging from a fanged mouth that was her whole body. There she now stood. Large pale hands underneath her were crawling to the floor, parts of extra organs were pulsating on top of the palms, and a mass of skin and muscle was supporting a slime-covered mountain of pale limbs and fresh organs. Vapors of blood had steamed out of what were large intestine-like tubes that snaked around her, and a massive mouth with tusk-like teeth had merged with her main body._

_On the central pillar of moving flesh, a single eye stared out down to the brave, yet little, girl._

_She looked in beholding and in horror. It was a beast, a living tower of repulsiveness and disgust. "What are you?" She said in babbles._

_The beast laughed, her sickly cackles echoing through the marble halls of the silent cathedral._

"_What you can never hide from and never destroy. I am what many fear and what many tried to silence. I am what many assume to be far away but yet hiding just an inch away. What many have attempted to kill, but have died in doing so, and what many have tried to delay but had met a brutal inevitability. I become my prettiest body by day and my most repulsive form by night. They call me a shape-shifter, a doppelganger, a deceiver, but behind this flayed, ever-changing skin, there lies an abomination in its final form."_

_"I am the face of the liar and ignorant man's bane, child, for I am what rest behind a fake lithesome shell of flesh."_

_She nears the girl, a great shadow looming over her face. Fear clutched the little one and the creature's great mouth stretched wide open. A large grunt and a quick movement then a violet bladed limb slashes the beast away. The girl's fear dies out and the adrenaline surges a flame in her. _

_The monster is pushed back. She bellows and laughs again._

_"There is no escaping from me."_

* * *

The tendril took the hardness of iron and the sharpness that was of a well-made arrowhead. If it had hit the creature, it would have impaled her and pin her to the wall.

Samson's ability to constrict all his thread-like fibers, and connect and separate together at will became a very effective way of combat and maneuver, and—when in unison with Filia's acquired experience in hand-to-hand combat—made this symbiotic duo a deadly force in fighting, both up-close and at a range. If not for Samson's natural means of defense, Filia wouldn't have the great speed and power advantage to what would be otherwise a hopeless battle for a trained soldier, or worse , an ordinary schoolgirl.

The needle-like tip of Samson's petrified limb narrowly missed Double. It had launched into empty air and stopped before it could hit the wall behind the malformed nun, who was now violently split in two with a gaping tunnel at her centre walled with flesh, limbs, and other organs compressed inside. Filia had a glimpse of Double's true form, and in that second of a sight, she met one of the doppelganger's true eyes.

Chilling, glaring, and black to its core, they peeked out of the crevice of one fold of flesh and looked at Filia's glowing crimson orbs. Wide open were the spheres of void, emotions nowhere to be found, and ever staring. But then lids move, feeling the tiny weight of Filia's glance. It needed a barring grin and the reflection of prey on her abysmal eyes to complete the picture of her facial expression.

Long arms began to emerge from the insides of the fleshy gap. They were writhing out from the flesh that walled the expanding hole, grasping the blade-arm with many hands from all sides. Double grunted as she bore the pain of gripping onto the sharpened threads that cut through the skin of her palms.

Samson's eyes widened as soon as Filia's did "What the…" He said along with Filia's gasp. Double's hands had taken Samson's tendril, and before the parasite could have reacted, a great pull from the pale fists had given impetus to Double's body. The force caused the entire mass of the split shape-shifter to fling towards Filia. Samson underestimated her weight and threshold for pain, and so he was unable to counterbalance the pull or to quickly withdraw the tendril. This caused both him and Filia to be pushed back with a great slam.

They were pushed towards their room. Filia landed on the ground, her back on the floor. Thankfully, Samson assisted her back on her feet using his tendrils as supporters. Filia got up to the sight of Double, who was now at the doorway, complete and whole as the most unsuspecting nun. As she returned Filia's sight with closed eyes, she took a step in and closed the door without being quick.

Filia only glared at Double for the time being. Samson expressed his own sort of glare with readied bladed limbs—two of his largest—now studded with organic blades that were curved like scythes and that extended out from of both Filia's sides. They began to encircle in place. The tips were pointed straight towards approximations of what could be Double's vital parts. Filia remained in a compact combat stance which prepared her for any move that required quick reaction or swift offense. Double stood unfazed, two hands flat on each other's palms, as if praying to the damned Trinity.

"I do not wish to fight right now, child." Double said in three voices at the same time. It is her true voice, a voice that wasn't human or alien, but a non-monotonous voice that was created by resonations inside her grotesque fleshy core. It was a cacophonous sound if heard from a distance, but a voice nonetheless when heard from around the source itself. It was a voice that mimicked three different people every time it would begin a new sentence. It was Double's voice in a tone that made no attempt to deceive anyone, as it was a voice that hid nothing and revealed everything—the voice of a true doppelganger, a cursed doppelganger that will always take form of someone else, in body and in sound, to survive in a world that despised abominations and shape-shifters.

"Really, now?" Filia said with eyes focused on the centre of Double. It is where her true form always emerged whenever she transformed. Filia would have a second to either take offense and hit Double's core or defend herself from the varying means of offense Double could do with her bizarre 'body'.

Double was an unpredictable foe, and Filia knew that well, for she battled the doppelganger once in the halls Grand Cathedral of The Trinity. But even so after their fight with Filia victorious, Double still had no recognizable pattern to the girl or to Samson. She had the ability to shape-shift to any person who had necessary combat abilities that a situation would need at any moment, which was, perhaps, her most useful method of combat. She can also turn into any winged animal and fly, become a small creature to escape a fatal blow, or she can simply use her limbs from her true form to attack her adversary.

If Samson was Filia's edge in a fight, he would be equaled by Double's numerous and random ways of attack and evasion. That is why Filia and Samson cannot let their guard down for it might mean a quick defeat. They were a bit less worried though. They've reminded themselves that they've defeated Double once, and so, they proved that they were not equal to this mutilated form of life in combat, but much greater.

But a doubt fueled their worries, and it edged Filia to keep her guard up. If they were to fight now, would they be as strong as they used to be or would the long absence in fighting weaken them now?

"Oh man… It's so easy to trust _someone or something_ that tried to kill you, right, kid?" Samson said, making an unnoticeable smile. "Look, nun or freak or whatever, I've been itching for a fight, and if you don't give us one good reason why you're here, then I won't have to think twice."

Double took a step forward without a word. Her movement caused Samson and Filia to reflex as to ready for a strike, but then their stances died down as Double sauntered pass them. As she walked the nearest table, she took something out of the pocket of her robes and placed what seemed to be a strange circular object on the coffee table near the couch.

"What in Canopy is that?" Samson said. He took caution, his tendrils still pointed at the disguised beast like spears.

"A special machine designed by my mistresses. Its sound can only be heard by those who are intended to be given the message to." Double said. One delicate finger pressed a button that was situated on the front of the device.

"This better not be a trick, shape-shifter" Filia said, looking at the brass, yet almost golden, luster of this strange object. "I had enough of them."

"Do not worry, child, The Trinity wouldn't permit me to badly hurt you." Double said, without looking at the girl.

Samson let out a sound of 'Hmph'. "No one permits me from badly hurting you..." He muttered, intentionally loud enough for Double to hear. She had ignored it fortunately, as to avoid unneeded argument or fighting.

The object glowed and vibrated in place. Its luster grew into lights that surrounded the brass of the object. Filia stared at the object, apparently intrigued by what she was seeing.

"_Hello? Heeeellloooooo?_" A young female voice came from the device, amazingly as clear as normal voice. No other electronic speaker in the kingdom would have produced a sound as enhanced as this strange machine. "_Aeon is this thing on?"_

"_Yeah it is_" was a distant reply from another female voice, slightly less shriller than the first one. "_It's recording now._"

Samson's tendrils have finally softened down. "Is this a joke?" Samson said for only Filia to hear.

"Shh…" Filia hushed him. "Just listen…"

"_Heeeyyy! So, um, how do I start? Well, first off, my name's Venus, you know, one of the goddesses in the Trinity and all that, the most beautiful of them all" _She giggled.

"_Don't listen to her! She's just trying make a good first impression!" _The distant voice said. For deities, Filia thought, they didn't seem to try to be too awe-inspiring or superior…

"_Shut up, Aeon, I'm going to enlighten our newest Skull Girl right now." _

"_Enlightening her doesn't mean telling her you're the most gorgeous being in space or whatever. Just tell her all the important details!"_ Aeon said.

"_I was going to but you keep interrupting me! " _A sigh accompanied with distant giggling was heard. "_By me and my two other relatives, she's always butting in and being jealous." _Venus said _"Ehem... So, where was I? Oh yes, so uh, hey there Filia! It's nice to have you in the eternal cycle of death and destruction!" _

"Psht… For divines, they sound like brats…" Samson muttered only to be shushed again by Filia.

"_I'm not really a goddess who likes to go all 'Ooooo, lightning, earthquakes, obey me, give me tribute and sacrifices bla bla bla' It just sounds boring and off-character, and I really don't like being too wordy. So here I am, talking to you like I would if I were an everyday mortal. You know, mortal speech interests me, really, they don't need a lot of words and they get the idea in your head." _She said. _"But hey, at least I sound friendly, right? Unlike Double here, alwaaaays trying to sound like Mother."_

"Forgi-" Double was interrupted.

"_Oph! No need for forgiveness, it's alright if you want to talk like mom, and besides, your voice doesn't match up to the way me and Aeon talk, so save your breath." _Venus said, apparently prepared for what Double was about to say. With those words, Double fell silent.

"_Now, as our cute little minion Double here has told you, you've got two weeks left before mom's mercy runs out, so yeah, as she's said, you've got to make the most out of it before you end up like Marie and all those before her."_

The reminder of Marie was a little paper note written with regret in Filia. She was only a little girl blinded by revenge, so strong was her passion for justice that she fought the Skull's influence just so that she would be sane enough to fulfill her wish.

Perhaps Filia granted her a favor by releasing her from the corruption that was the Skull Heart. If not for her intervention, Marie might have begun to hurt does who were not involved in her blind revenge against the Medici Mafia. Still, the guilt lingered in Filia. Maybe if Marie thanked her with her dying breath, that unnecessary guilt right now wouldn't exist.

"Friendly… but still evil." Samson continued to mutter. Filia sharply pulled a thread of Samson, which caused his tongue to jut out. "Okay okay, I'll stop, jeez!"

"_You know that, of course, but we just want you to know a few other things that you may want to take note of. Number one: you're being watched, by us and someone else. " _Filia raised an eyebrow. A sense of fear and worry shook her head. Something wasn't going to be right and Filia did not know what that will be.

"_We think it's the ASG Labs, and we can't track them down because we aren't so omnipresent when they cover themselves in amplified ASG waves that disrupt our power. Damn mortals, finding ways to repel our divine powers, little do they know that same power will make this world go 'poof'." _She laughed for a moment, before continuing on. "_Anyway, Double's going to guard over you from now on, in secret so nobody knows that you're being protected." _

Samson was on the verge of yelling 'WHAT?!' but Filia had already pulled a thread to keep him check. Samson's yell subsided to a dying wheeze of air. Filia gave Double a quick glance. She was quiet with her eyes closed and her hands still flat on each other as to pray.

"_Yeah yeah, I know it's going to be a bit uncomfortable with one of our most fetid creations to watch over you, but hey, she'll keep you safe. Trust me, you'll find it harder to fight ASGs when mom's little artifact is inside you, so Double will prove to be a bodyguard."_

"_Just understand that mom doesn't want any 'unworthy' people to get a hold of the Skull so we have to do this whether you like it or not, and besides, we're keeping you safe until your doom. That's number two."_

"_And number three: Double was the one who paid your rent. You were about to get an eviction notice so we had to act or you'll be out there in the streets, exposed to everyone and vulnerable to those 'guys'. You can thank us later." _

"We won't…" Samson said. It was thankfully a short comment for Filia to ignore, if not, then Filia would have pulled a fistful of his threads.

"_And lastly, number four: It's not really something that you need to know, but something I just wanted to ask personally, because it gets boring watching over this world and watching over you for the longest period of time while Aeon's busy doing other Trinity duties. I've began to notice some other stuff going on with you, and as a goddess, I have the right to curiosity as well as any mortal would. When are you going to tell her?"_

Filia froze in place, eyes widened. Then she subsided in a posture hinting uncertainty. She did not know.

"_I mean, she's your bestest-best friend right? And maybe your only friend because I don't see you two hang out with anyone else. Don't you think she deserves to know that you're doing this for her? Well, I'm not a mortal, but you can hide it as long as you like but one day she'll know. That's how the truth goes anyway." _Venus said through the machine. For a goddess, she seemed quite verbose in mortal feelings, but that might have still been something she looked down upon.

"_I feel sorry for you, kiddo, but I'm just the goddess of space and my destiny's to destroy this world so the least I can do is agree with mom. No wish can be completely selfless, that's why no one can fool the Skull Heart. So yeah, you get consequences just like every other Skull Girl, but you get some time because you tried to be selfless, so make the most of these last days, just like mom said. "_

"_So uh, that's about it! The Skull will take you by the end of the second week in a slow manner. It'll take a whole day before you completely succumb, that is if you don't try to resist it like how Marie did for such a long time. Ugh... She was quiet a pain, really."_

"_I don't suggest resisting. It's going to be quite painful fighting our powers growing inside you. Don't worry though, the Skull will take you anyway no matter how strong you may be. So um... Good luck! And good luck with Cazie, was it? Carrie? Uh… Carol! Yeah, right, Carol! I'll be watching, and please, don't mind Double, she won't try to really hurt you unless I say so; she really is quite obedient. Farewell!"_ There was silence which was finally the queue for Samson to speak another of his impatient or complaining remarks without getting punished, but then Venus's voice was once again heard through the device.

"_Hey, uh, Aeon, is it done recording?"_

"_No, just wait… This thing takes time." _Aeon said.

Venus sighed. _"You got an hourglass on your torso and a snake-parasite thing wrapped around it that controls time, and plus, you're the goddess of time. Why can't you speed this thing up?"_

"_Because Khronos and I don't want to waste energy on speeding up a divine microphone, now can you just wait?"_

"_Ugh… fine…" _Venus said. The silence continued and everyone else in the room listened as Venus hummed tune. The humming became words then words morphed into lyrics. She began to sing a song. _"Da da da… Why so down tonight? La la la la… Let's just lie awake… Doo doo roo roo… Cause baby you got you and me…" _

"_They can hear you."_

"_No problem with that. Now she knows I'm a great singer."_

"_Oh shut up… There! Finally…" _The voices began to fade. _"Really, why can't mom just…"_ Were the last words that were heard from the device.

The strange machine's glow died down and its normal luster returned. Double took the object with a bleeding hand and pocketed it once again without much haste. Filia fell on the couch with the weight of her new spawned annoyances and contemplations bringing her down.

"And I was hoping for a fight…" Samson said. He raised one small tendril and pointed it towards Double, like how a normal accusative finger would. "You'd best leave now, whatever you are, because we don't like your company."

"If not for my mistresses whim's, I would say the same." Double said. "It is obvious that they couldn't trust you in handling the Skull Heart."

"Bah, they're just afraid that it might end up with the ASG or the Medicis." Samson said. "We can handle ourselves and your..."

The clock continued to tick as Double and Samson conversed. The short arm was already pointed at the 6th mark and it had moved once exactly when Filia looked at it. Time was passing. She had noticed it again. Two weeks and it feels like the time limit was enough to asphyxiate her to submission. How was she going to do this? How was she going to keep up? Will she even explain this to Carol? Will she ever find out who she really was before Samson had wiped out her memory as a side-effect of his parasitism? She didn't feel like she could answer all these questions in two week's time...

"Hey! You're phasing out, kid!" Samson said, prickling a tendril on her hip. Filia slightly jumped awake.

"S-Sorry, I was just thinking…" Filia said as she held her right temple with one hand. She caught the sight of Double again, who still stood there like a sculpture or a sentinel. It placed an uneasy awkwardness in Filia. The same thing or person attempted to kill her, and now there it was, tasked to guard Filia. She was standing, right in front of the very girl she once tried to consume.

"Um… So… Any personal ideas on who's after me?" Filia said.

Double shook her head. "Mortals have ways of hiding themselves from my mistresses' powers. It is entertaining to think that they've managed to create effective ways to avoid them." That and ways to _try to _destroy them. The notion caused the thought of Carol to expand in Filia's train of thinking. It came to her attention that Carol was once Painwheel, a weapon of the ASG Labs, tasked to eliminate or repel the Skull Girl at all costs. It took a toll on Carol, and the price was to become the likeness of the very monster that she was forced to hunt.

"Great, so we got the Skull Heart just waiting to explode and a guy or a bunch of guys who are after us." Samson said. "We're going to have some trouble, and that's alright, because I like trouble."

"Don't be foolish, parasite. You and your host are still weak in this form. You won't stand a chance fighting the full-force of the ASGs." Double now spoke in an alto normal tone that manifested a contemplative nun's voice; it was the voice deceived a people and what the nun she had took form of would've possibly sounded like if she were not a monster. It made Filia and Samson more or less comfortable with talking to the disguised abomination.

"Hah! Weak? We'll see about that." Samson said, brutish as he was. "We've beaten two ASGs, so don't underestimate me and the kid."

Double was beginning to snap a distasteful remark back at Samson, but then she had to morph into something quick. The doorbell was ringing once again, a single buzz as to mark the visitor's patience.

Filia stood up to answer the door. "Be there right in a sec!" She said. As she approached the door, she took a glance behind her. There was a black cat sitting at the floor. It was looking at her, green eyes to complete its small whiskered grin.

Her glance quickly became a glare, which maybe fueled the delight or annoyance of the cat that was Double. She turned her head and placed her attention back to the door. Hopefully, Double will cooperate with her—at least, for now.

The thought of Double escaped Filia's mind. She turns the knob; the door opens. Samson becomes limp, and Filia makes a smile, now meeting another, more softer smile. Flowers rest in her beige sling-bag, their heads lazily peeking out of the buttoned cover and a fresh aroma of a leaf-scented breeze surrounded her. Lithesome but not old, scarred but no longer hurt, disfigured but not destroyed. She was Carol, Filia's only friend.

* * *

Author's Note: This one took some time, had to do some research and think this one out. I've been planning for an awesome show-down but I'll have to save that one for later. A loooooot of people are going to get involved soon, can't say who without spoiling it. Oh and, some legal stuff, I do not claim ownership over the song "In a Moment's Time".

So thanks for reading this one, do what you want, a review will be much appreciated, and see ya in the next chapter.


	4. Behind a Veil: An Empire of Fools

**Behind the Veil: An Empire of Fools**

_Hidden_

_Her dressed body is leaned down, her hands on her laps, and her head positioned closely to the small crevice of the hardwood door._

_There was a man wearing a suit sitting on the chair facing her father, who was on the opposite chair. The orange light of a lamp in the room was sufficient for it to give a shine to the man's face and a luster to his oiled golden-blonde hair_

_The man is reclined, relaxed and comfortable on the cushioned chair, his legs crossed over each other, his__ two own arms resting on the arms of his seat like the armored lord sitting on a throne illustrated sharply on an oil painting behind him. Like most of the people her father dealt with, he is wearing a two-piece suit of a high brand—this one's fabric was colored a fine maroon—but unlike those common day-to-day people in the household, there was a something that set him from them all: there was a gold scepter with a pointed edge resting on his lap. On the head of this scepter, was a flawless gem finely-cut into a designer's jewel; it was glowing with a ghostly green that contests the light of the room lamp that was lit on the small table beside his chair._

_Her father was on the edge of his seat speaking, but she could not understand his words nor see the expression on his face as his voice was lowered down... _

_As he spoke and as the other listened, the man raised his right hand to his lips and tilted his head for it to rest there. He nods as his father went on and on, his blonde eyebrows rising at some points, bringing a light movement to his chiseled features. His sky-blue irises never leave the attentive eye-contact between him and his father._

_He is young, she thought, and he looked… almost like someone she knew. If his hair was a copper brown then he would look… just like the very person he was talking to: her father._

_A touch arrives to her shoulder and the crevice wherein she looked through faded into blackness as the hardwood door closed. The little girl turns and stands still, mouth agape but silent. There were familiar slender thighs, but then she looks up, and there was the face of the woman before her. The girl recognizes her; she is a good friend of her parents but rarely seen in the house. If almost all the male acquaintances of her family wore suits, all the female ones wore fashions the likes of opera singers, and this woman was no exception._

"_Who is papa talking to?" The girl said. "Why does he look like him?"_

_The woman kneels with one leg; she pulls back a stray strand of her white hair. They look at each other, the girl's expression unmoving, and the woman's yellow cores of her eyes going here and there until they finally met with the little girl's sight._

"_Dear…" She said. "Some things are best left unspoken. Time will come and you will know."_

"_But I want to know now. Why not now?"_

_The woman inclines her head down, but her look does not leave._

"_If the truth was an ugly one, would you still want to know it?"_

_The little girl did not answer, and she only looked down, her blank expression now broken with half-closed eyes that strayed to her side. She spoke again. "Why do they keep hiding things from me? What does papa want me not to know?"_

_The woman stands up once more, her left hand leaving the girl's shoulder but her sight still at the little one. "It keeps you happy for a while…. at least, until you're ready to accept what we really are."_

_Her other arm flickers for split-second. A hologram. But the little girl failed to see it, as her head was bowed down for her to wipe her tearing eyes._

* * *

Wrinkled fingers drum an incessant beat on a gilded desk surface. The taps make the faintest sound throughout the unlit room that was his office. The once fair-complexioned skin of his fingers now a darker shade brought about by age.

He is an old man wearing a beige suit without a tie, his undershirt a dark-green, his posture hunched forward, and the backrest of his throne-like chair a few inches taller than his upper body. His bony, wrinkled head rests on his right hand, and between the middle and index fingers, stuck a lit cigar, smoking and pointing downward towards the surface of his golden desk. The left hand drummed and drummed, creating the only sound in his large, _very_ _large_, office.

The room can be entered through a gated elevator as big as the wall, and when its large doors open, a grand sight of an _office_ is seen. The four walls are vertical, but then arch as they reach their peak, meeting to create a golden ceiling. The floors are checkered black and white, well-polished to reflect the luster above, and from the elevator, was a white fur carpet that reached towards the suited old man's big, lavish desk. To the sides, left and right, were live decorative plants, and lined up on these walls were meter-sized artistic portraits of his important relatives—some old, others decently young, some with condescending expressions, and others with blank faces. On the bottom of every frame, were their individual names etched in elegant, quill-written cursive on an oval brass; their first names vary, but the surnames are of course, all the same: 'de Medici'

At the very end of this room, is a glass window, its cylindrical steel frame showing and its area almost taking up the whole wall. At its top corners, were spiraling designs of golden winds, and through the clear glass, was a view of the heart of New Meridian. Signs, advertisements, windows, were all lighted up with bright electric colors, giving this office a faint multi-colored glow to counter the shade on his side.

The suit-wearing old man smokes the cigar. He inhales—the tobacco compressed on the tip glowing with a bright fiery scarlet—then slowly exhales through his mouth then out his puckered lips. The smoke flows like an evanescent, ethereal flame that floated through the space of air in front of him. The smoke dies, his cigar falls to the desktop, and he coughs and coughs, wheezes, then coughs once more. The drumming stops, the sound replaced. He places his left fist on his mouth, and used his right to support him by pushing onto the surface of the desk as he rose from his cushioned chair.

The coughs become less intense and they fade as he approached the wall of a window.

He leans forward, supporting himself with his left fist on the glass of the window, and his right hand now inside the right pocket of his also beige slacks. From there, he looks out; his already-wrinkled brows further folding, and his skinny neck contracting as he cleared his throat. For a moment it occurred to him that being aged and old was not an easy living.

"Dahila, what time is it?" His voice is dry yet somehow watery, but clearly ancient that its younger sound would no longer be imaginable.

From the shaded right-hand corner, came a vixen, rather risque sound of a mature woman. "A couple of minutes after five, Lorenzo… My, my, he's a bit late…." Dahila said with a voice capable of purring.

She is not fully revealed. A black silken veil covers the whole foreside of her face, save for the eyeholes, which were thinly cut to show only her irises like golden rhinestones. The rest of her is further hidden into the shadow, yet to emerge.

"I would wait for that informer for a lifetime if I have to…" He coughs again—his head bowing down for a second, and then clears his throat.

"I can see why…" She finally comes out of the dark, showing her full figure. Lithe, revealingly dressed as the skirt of her velvet, dark-violet dress was slit at the sides to reveal her legs, which were covered by white stockings that ended at the thighs. Hanging loosely by her temples, were large silvery strands of hair on each side, both curvedly zigzagging downward like sidewinder snakes. At the topmost, was a felt headwear of the same color of her dress and of a circular shape that fit her scalp; by its left side, were three white feathers of what may be a bird of prey, the largest feather angled diagonally upward, and the smallest downward; they were tightly fastened at the tips together with a bright ruby core.

Her left arm was slender, its hands delicate, completely gloved in thin silk to complement her figure, the right, mechanical: a white rod ending with a drum-loaded shotgun the size of a small child in lieu of a normal hand.

She walks, her stiletto high-heels tapping on the polished floor, stopping as she then stood beside her master and turning to face the same sight as he was now looking out to. Her metal right arm is pointed downward, and her left hand holds the metal joint that was supposed to be her right shoulder.

They stand together without a word. Lorenzo removed his suit and hung it on his back like a cape, then joined his hands together behind him under his suit. They look out to the skyscrapers that contested for height, the bright dynamic neon signs, and the bustling metropolis that was New Meridian. His chin is raised up, his body slightly hunching as it was as straight as it could go, and his neon-shined face shows no expression whatsoever.

_River King Casino. Eye Candy. Club 20. Eliza…._ The signs shine brightly, one on top of the other, of different glowing colors crowning every building, each structure varying in height. Out the window, they were looking, the two of them standing at the center of this electric spotlight.

"Dahila, when you look out this window, what do you see?" Lorenzo said.

For a moment, she thought of something to say. "An empire… Made from our sweat, our blood, their sweat, and their blood… It's beautiful."

"Yes, it is... very much…" A sigh. "But all empires fall, and all beauty can rot, knowing this and knowing the inevitability of it, I cannot stop to admire anymore."

Somehow, Dahila knew that one part of what he said was wrong, but there was no use in arguing with Lorenzo de Medici, don of the Medici Mafia, and the king of the New Meridian underworld. She listened then she asked:

"Why is that?"

The streets below them are congested, with people like ants of all races travelling in all sorts of directions on sidewalks as the cars were to the boulevards. For a moment, Lorenzo looks down and sees them all, people under the slowly dying sunlight.

"Do you fear death, Dahila?" He said.

Before she could have hesitated in an instant answer, she spoke out her doubts. "I don't know, really…"

Lorenzo smiles, his dry lips wrinkling at the sides. "If you did not fear death, you wouldn't be killing those who try to kill you."

Dahila smiles a similar smile, only that it can never be seen, though heard through her voice. "Then that makes us both afraid, doesn't it?"

He nods, and tilts his head, considering what Dahila just asked. "It does, and I'm thankful for that fear, for if I did not have it, I would not be standing here and you would not have your special arm."

"Hm… I agree…"

He reads the signs, again and again, each name crossing by, each name he scans through, and each name bringing sorts of heartwarming and violent memories. The buildings, they reached towards the sky, everyone competing for height, competing for an already finished race. It was Lorenzo's tower, the tower of the Under-God that stands above all, like a great king at the center of a tight crowd of slabs.

"We have become so powerful, so fearsome, and wealthy that I could not bear to see our power fade away in an instant." He leans forward once again, his hands back to where they left a while ago. "What use is our great power if it will only last for a day, a month, or a year?"

"Nothing…" Dahila said. "Hm… You said the same when we were planning the hit on the Life Gem…"

"And the day after we lost it to that… feline thief, Nadia."

"Now you say it again…"

"I say it because I am afraid." He said, and then turned his head to look at Dahila. "No, I say it because I am _terrified_… I've tasted so much power, and I am afraid of death. I've tasted immortality, and I'm no longer afraid, but instead, I've become terrified more than ever. Death will take me, and all this gold, power, and royalty will become ash…" He returns his look to the window. "Death is cruel a thing… Death is death… Death is unchanging… Death is…"

"Time running out, put simply." Dahila said. "Is that what you fear?"

"Yes…" Lorenzo said. "How can I be happy when I know that all I have left are seconds? That all that I've ever done will turn to specks of dust after the clock does its cycle… Do you take a moment to wonder the same question, Dahila?"

She has not moved. "Sometimes, but even with the Life Gem gone, I do as I can still do, live as I can still live."

"Can you say that you're happy?"

"Almost… One more piece is all that's left, and I'm not exactly sure what it is. I'll be more ready, and maybe even a bit joyful to die if that piece fell in place. How about you?" It was a half a lie. All the possible answers are in her head, all of them mixed up, and one of them stands out the most, though she wouldn't give it focus; she wasn't able to.

Loreenzo returns to the comfort of his seat, taking the time as he walked to think of an answer as Dahila watched him go, turning her chest and head.

He sits. The fallen cigar found itself between the same fingers that held it before it fell. His body reclines, relaxes, and then he places the butt-end of his cigar between his dried lips. The cigar wasn't finished yet, and he savored the remaining tobacco smoke. He tilts his head up, breathing out towards the ceiling, watching the smoke evanesce to the air.

"I've tasted immortality, and yet… I'm a dead man. I cheated time, and in turn, I thought I could cheat death. I cheated life. I cheated all the time I lived. And here, is an old man, waiting for all the consequences of his unfair choices to make it all fair, and that old man, is me. And that bringer of justice? Time. I'm a fool, and here I sit, on this regal throne, in this luxurious steel tower, as the emperor of the empire of fools, once immortal… now dying." He said. Another breath taken from the cigar, exhales, smoke pours upward, vanishing into the air, never seen again.

"There is no such thing as an immortal. No such thing as forever… That fact is shrouded for our own good when we are far away from the end of our time, then comes the day when the hours become limited, the seconds drum to the song of demise, and we begin to know it all so well, be reminded of it every day… I've lived grandeur. I have everything I could ever ask for, except more time."

Dahila did not speak, only bowed her head, thinking of anything, any possible phrase or sentence that could at least comfort a man who would have anyone killed with just a point of a finger. He is Lorenzo De Medici, the don of the Medici Mafia, the immortal king of the Canopian underworld, and now he speaks, a choir of all the souls taken by his bloody family singing a melody of slow remorse inside him.

"And that is what I want, and like a cornered beast," He sat straight, a fist clenched on the desk. "We will fight for it to survive, to live. We can fight time, we have done so once, and now, we will battle it again. "

Her head no longer bowed. "A war against time?" Dahila said. "Count me in."

Lorenzo smiled. He leans forward, arms resting on the gilded desktop. "We've seen so much bloodshed, killed so many men and women alike to protect and preserve the greatness that is our family… I admire your consistency, Dahila, but when we fight, we point a gun to the greatest killer of men…"

"Man himself." She said, an automatic response as to complete a long ago quote she had heard.

"Yes, but the true killing contraption is time as well… And man is but a cog in its intricate bloody mechanism, and I have to say… We are the fastest, most efficient cog in the macrocosm that is time…" He finishes his cigar, plunging it to a small black ashtray at his arm's reach, putting out the scarlet glow.

He cups one hand over the other in front of his mouth. "Today, our informer from the Labs will arrive, and tell us the location of the Skull Heart… Once we know, we begin our war... The war to preserve our power, our family, and all that it stands for."

"We really are fools, aren't we? We're daring a fight with time." Dahila said.

Lorenzo chuckled as he took a new cigar and a silver lighter from his suit-pockets. A small ember sparks up; the tip of the cigar touches the flame, then glowing. The lid of the lighter closes, killing the flame. One hand pockets it back to where it was taken. Another toxic inhalation, a cloud of pollution inside his aging throat, it escapes, now a thick, ghostly breath out of his lips. He never got tired of it.

"We are already fools. Why not make the best out of our idiocy?" Lorenzo said. He rested his back, and again, he sits, a lord, ever-thinking, ever-planning, and ever-watching on his golden, cushioned throne. Dahila turns and walks beside his seat, one foot going in front of the other, grace in every movement. Her prosthetic shotgun is pointed up, and her good arm holds her left hip.

"So, my boss darling, what's our first move?"

Again, he smokes for a short moment, returning his cigar-holding hand back to the chair's arm after the smoke escaped. "Once we sorted out her location, we send a spy, know what we're dealing with, then we do the normal procedure."

"Who will it be doing the job this time?"

"Neither. I'll save both of you for last. I want to know how she fights, know what she's good and not good at." Lorenzo said. "We're dealing with a Skull Girl here, and we need to…" He stops speaking as the massive elevator doors at the far-end of the room opens, sending a rumble through the ground.

Light is casted upon Lorenzo's office, and from the platform, were two figures, the taller one having restraining the other from running towards Lorenzo. They walked out, and the light that came disappeared with the closing elevator doors. The shorter suited man was cursing as he tries to pull his arms and shoulders from the clutches of the tall, lanky, robotic hat-and-suit-wearing figure, whose pointed salamander steel head had not moved at all, only facing towards his boss ahead of him. The deep-toned incoherent curses of the shorter man and taps of their leather shoes fill the room, one rapid, the other fixed.

"And who is this, Tom?" Lorenzo said. His posture leaned forward, his head resting on the back of one hand.

"His name's Fortelaza, boss." Tom, the tall figure, said with his voice through a microphone. His suit and trousers were purple with thin white lines vertically cutting the color. On his metal head, a grayish fedora. "Says he's got news about the informer."

Fortelaza, a younger man in a suit-outfit of a lavender color, was finally able to get off the robot's clutches. His hair is an oiled brown, every strand flowing to the right, and his fair face was broad, the nose being larger than average. He speaks, neck sweating and eyes moving from Lorenzo and then to his cigar, then to Dahila, then to other places. To stand in front of the Under-God is a privilege, an honor, and now there he is, his boss, his don, sitting patiently, quietly expecting him to speak.

"B-Boss…" He said, his right on his chest. His voice almost shivers, but its strong accent still recognizable. "Donny, the informer at the Labs, he got hit an hour ago. But everything's okay, boss, he told me the info, before he went to give you a visit, before… and before… he died."

Lorenzo raises a brow. "Well… What did he say?"

"He, he… was on the DNA testing science-thing, to see if the new S.G. had a mark on the Civil Archives. Donny got the info, went to The Crooks, we had some drinks, and he told me that he was gonna see you after, but before that, he told me her name and he went out. Then… I saw people huddled around something when I got outside, went to check what the commotion was, and then I saw Donny, lying on the floor… A needle killed him, boss, a small needle stuck to his neck… After that, I just ran back to the tower…"

Lorenzo turns his head upwards to Dahila, who is still standing beside him. "Sound familiar?"

"Parasite 'Deino'" Dahila said. "It's a synthetic parasite, one of the Labs' lesser creations. He was shot before he even walked in the bar."

Lorenzo returned his attention back to Fortelaza. "He'll be missed…" He said "But let's cut to the chase. Who is the new Skull Girl?"

The mobster's lips pursed as he swallowed. He faces away for a second, his sweating hands smug in his coat-pockets. "I… I couldn't believe it myself, boss… "He said, facing back to Lorenzo. His don's brows were furrowing, expecting him to continue. "She's one of the direct bloods of the family. She's Filia de Medic-" A gasp for air, as if his last breath jetted out of him. He chokes when he approached the last "i", both his eyes roll up, he holds his now vein-pulsating throat, Lorenzo rises from his seat, and Fortelaza's whole body falls face to the floor. Dahila did not move, and Tom only gave the man's breathless body a look.

"What in the Cosmos!" Lorenzo said, his mouth left agape.

Dahila walks toward the corpse. She approached Fortelaza's body and bent down to take something from his stiffening neck. Her fingers found the head of a needle, precisely planted on one of his arteries. She pulled it out, stood straight, and examined the blood-stained silver needle between her normal hand's fingers.

"You did not notice?" Dahila said. "He was a dead man when he entered this room." The needle falls to the floor, and Dahila returned by her master's side. The body of Fortelaza laid motionless on the floor, both hands on his throat, mouth and eyes wide-open, frozen in an expression that begged for air before the suffocation finally took his life. Fortelaza is dead. Dahila spared his corpse a second's glance and said: "Tom, go clean that up." And the robotic figure did so without another word, picking up the body, carrying it by his shoulders, and walking towards the elevator.

Lorenzo had fallen, back to his seat.

He wipes his sweating forehead with his cigar-free hand and lets it stay there. His head rests on the hand—an elbow on the chair-arm—as he began thinking. Tom enters the elevator, the light returning, then the gates close, the light dying. The room is dark again, and growing darker as the dusk approaches. The drumming returns, the tapping beat of his fingers, but this time, slower.

"She's alive…" Lorenzo said, with eyes looked down on the floor.

"And she's the Skull Girl..." Dahila pointed her shotgun-arm and shotgun downwards. "Now what do we do?"

The drumming stopped, and there ensued a pause to make way for Lorenzo's thoughts. He sighs, stiffens his lips, then he speaks. "Contact Cirque De Cartes… Tell the Ringleader that I might have a new job for him."

"Anything else?"

Lorenzo regained his composure. He smokes his cigar once again, and as the thick smoke vanishes, his head turns to Dahila. "Call Leonardo, tell him that I need to see him. And tell him it's about his daughter."

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading this chapter, and thank you to those who stay tuned. Leave a review if it suits you, fave or follow, constructive criticism is welcomed, and see you on the next chapter, dear reader.


	5. Behind a Veil: The Unforgotten

**Behind a Veil: The Unforgotten**

_Her Demon, Her Weapon_

_Florescent light bulbs line the corridor, weakly lit that shadows still gather at the intervals of every light._

_The air scattered dust and a cold, metallic smell never seemed to leave this place._

_There stood a woman in front of an exhibit by the end of the corridor, scribbling down notes on the paper on her clipboard, standing tall and focused on her writing. _

_She mutters as she wrote._

_"Gae Bolga systems a more recent success, suggesting subject life systems tolerated parasite merging. Now testing Artificial Parasite 'Buer' on Subject Painwheel. Risk rate is at seventy-five percent."_

_Inside the exhibit, a girl kneeling at the right side of the small room, her body covered by old loincloth, and kneeling so deeply that her forehead touched the floor. _

_The bulb above her did not provide enough light. The shadow completely covered her back._

_"Ready system test." The woman said, and her voice amplified through a megaphone inside the exhibit. _

_"Command 00020 Activate ArPar 2, codename 'Buer'." Red lightning sparked around the girl's body in an instant._

_She rose. She had no face. Only a mask stitched to it, the eyepieces glowing as bright as the forks of lightning that empowered her._

_Her body shivers as she attempted to stand straight, but could not. Something held her down. _

_She limped forward, and from the shadows, revealed four blades_—_ the size of each almost as large as the girl herself_— _attached to a segmented metal coil connected to her back._

_At the center, where the blades met, was a metal skull._

_"No visible signs of parasite incompatibility. Subject is unaware of changes."_

_The blades moved, spinning slowly._

_She reached for her back, and slightly felt the cold surface of the metal coil through the tips of her fingers. The movement of her pale, black-veined hands grew more frantic, horrified by this new part of her._

_Then she turned her head, and saw the woman, busy on her clipboard on the other side of the glass._

_The blades behind her spun rapidly as she shouted without words. She ran towards the glass on all fours, blades spinning violently behind her. She leaped, turned, and slashed the glass with the blades, only to be deflected._

_The blades met the glass again and again, clanging each time, pounding against the spot where the woman stood unfazed and unamused._

_She returned to writing on her clipboard. "Subject shows signs of rage and uses the weapon with extreme proficiency even after first attachment."_

_The blade spun again, attempting to saw through the glass, but only creating fiery sparks as it created friction. Still, the glass did not break._

_"Subject observation is complete. Completely no signs of incompatibility. Buer parasite attachment is successful."_

_The girl on the other side had given up destroying the glass. She shouted at the woman, but was unable to be heard through the soundproof room. _

_The woman faced up from her clipboard. The glass muffled her wordless yells. Her face contorted itself from the rage. The eyepieces glowed red with pure anger, clenching at the sight of the woman._

_"My sponsor will be so proud." The woman said but was answered with more yells and another attempt to pound the glass. She watched the subject, attempting again and again to communicate its hatred towards her. Beginning to feel bored of her, she shook her head._

_"You poor poor thing... Maybe it's time you go to sleep. Activate tranquilizing protocol."_

_The instant she commanded, vapor-like gas spewed from all corners of the exhibit's ceiling. The girl did not stop herself, and continued until weakness began to take her, putting a sway to every violent movement until all tiredness was visible. She gripped on to the glass, punching it with her own fists. _

_Her hands slowly slid down. Her eyes began to close, merging with the dark space of her mask, and the last picture she saw, was the woman looking down on her as she fell to the floor._

_"Sweet dreams, Painwheel." _

* * *

There she is, carrying her cello case with both hands. Carol had set a smile upon her heavily scarred face. The softness of her gentle nature presented itself even in her expression; smiling, eyes closed, then open again, the smile not leaving her. Filia mimicked the same expression; she had grown fond of it herself and it never failed to bring a sort of comfort to her. Filia knows by-heart that Carol was not the type to hide her expressions and emotions, and the sight of her kind face assured her that nothing was wrong. Come to think of it, nothing ever went wrong since that wish, until today.

The natural scent of leaves and flowers filled the air around them, the same scent that surrounds a well-kept garden, and it came from Carol. It marked her presence. And Samson, having a much more heightened sense of smell, caught its aroma and quickly, and, rather, strongly. He immediately recognized Carol's aroma without a doubt.

"About time." He said before any greetings were exchanged. "I didn't think you could recover from that coma of yours, flower girl." Samson had lowered his arms and once again became the false image of Filia's hair.

Filia's smile and expression bent all together having heard him. Her eyes pointed to her left like they can circle her head and glare back at Samson.

"That isn't so polite, Samson." said Filia.

"Don't have to be. I'm not some well-refined parasite." He said, saying it as if he remembered someone. His eyes rolled up to meet the imaginary glare Filia gave.

Carol chuckled lightly for a second. Samson never stopped complaining ever since the girl's first tardy arrival. It was always like this. And Filia had tolerated it and gotten used to her parasite's discomfort as all three of them did. "Sorry I annoy you, Samson." She said, saying it to him by looking at Filia.

When Carol spoke and gave eye contact towards Filia, a sort of nervousness came upon her that she had never experienced. Today was unlike any other day before it. The same sense of relief and easiness brought about by Carol's visit vanished from her doorstep the instant Double came there a while ago. She noticed that her smile no longer fully mimicked Carol's, as her eyebrows pointed upward instead of being normally lax, which hinted an obvious worry never seen by Carol at her other visits. Worse, this nervousness was beginning to show, and worse yet, Filia did not know how to hide it.

"Whatever, kid." Samson said to Carol. Filia's face continued to be frozen— without her knowing— at the same expression as it was before. Her mind drifted off to thinking about all matters relating to the mess a few moments ago before Carol's arrival.

"Is there something wrong, Fil? It's like you've seen a dead body." said Carol, observing her friend's face. It shocked Filia awake and then she realized that her eyes had not left Carol all the time while she was thinking. Carol maintained an expression that calmly expected something off of her friend.

"What? Oh, no, no," Filia said, her attention now pulled away from her thoughts. "Nothing's wrong! I was just thinking, you know, about..."

"About what?" Carol continued, urging Filia to go on with the help of a kind tone. "The new boy you were talking about? That new dress at Never 12? Oh, wait, or are you getting the scent of the new flower I've found?" Samson groaned midway as she spoke. He hated the amount of confidence Carol had when both she and Filia were alone and also found it absurd that Carol took upon a shy and silent poise whenever near strangers.

"You girls are impossible..." He muttered, loud enough to be heard, but was nevertheless ignored.

Meanwhile, Filia started to think quickly, pausing for a moment as her eyes traveled left-and-right, not wanting to look for an answer while directly meeting Carol's eyes. Filia urged herself to come up with a reason, a reason that's not a lie; something that will indeed convince her over why she is now awkwardly pausing out of all the times Carol had been in front of her door. It wasn't supposed to be fabricated. It just had to be, at the least sense, true anyway.

She began to over-think. Numerous reasons flashed in her head, taking form as the words of her thoughts, and she could not pick one to say. Her mind was too fast to notice that many of them would not sound convincing. Suddenly, out of all them, flashed the mental picture of a black cat. Yes, that cat was Double in her disguise; an ordinary black house cat with innocent green eyes. Nothing was wrong with it, she thought, and by thinking that nothing was indeed wrong with it, she acted without knowing what she was doing.

Like a reflex, she side-stepped and said. "I was thinking about my new cat! Dubby!" It took a few seconds before the stupidity of the name sank in her head. She mentally slapped her own forehead and realized that she had named a fiendish servant of divine beings in the same way as a child would name his new pet goldfish. Samson reacted just as quickly as Filia did when he heard the stupid nickname his host had given for the shape-shifter. He wanted to laugh but only smiled widely instead, keeping his laughter in.

And there was the cat, Dubby, otherwise known as Double, in front of the glass coffee table, licking the length of her front paw, biting it a few times, then stopping when she felt the weight of Carol's look, as if caught red handed in the act. She stopped biting, placed both her paws on the floor, and gave out the adorable 'meow' at Carol, her thin furry tail pointing upward at the sight of the girl and her glassy green emerald eyes affixed strongly to Carol's.

"I wanted to introduce her to you as a surprise, you see, but she's a pretty... um... _mischievous_ cat." Fiia said. Though she didn't know if it would work, Carol believed her, and this placed her mind at a degree of ease. But then it counteracted, and her mind troubled itself again. A gut feeling told Filia that Carol did sense that something was wrong with her best friend, but with the amount of trust she had for her, disregarded it instead. And even if that was not certain, Filia still felt it, the kind of inner guilt generated by realizing the creation of one's own mistake.

"Wow," said Carol, eyes widened at the new 'pet'. "She looks so cute!" Then she entered Filia's apartment without asking, dropped her cello case at the floor between her and the cat, and crouched down to enjoy the fuzzy appearance of it. The cat savored Carol's adoration and purred as the girl ran her soft fingers through the neck and back, tickling its senses and meowing with soft purrs to show her gratitude.

"Well, someone seems to be enjoying herself..." Samson said for only Filia to hear, his eyes watching the cat with scorn. Filia gave no reply and slowly lost her smile while Carol's back was turned.

There came a short gasp from Carol. "Oh my, the poor little thing's wounded." Carol said, holding a paw, the same paw that the cat was licking not long ago. She inspected it, a long red streak at the soft pinkish bottom of her paw. Afterwards, she looked at its green eyes and said: "Don't worry, I got just the thing to help you." And she worked with her bag, bringing it to her chest, opening it, and in a moment, taking a leaf that had smooth edges and a light green texture, no bigger than her own palm. "Now you stay still, I'll patch it up." In response, the cat meowed, watching Carol as she began to apply the leaf like an improvised bandage.

"Where'd she get this wound, Fil?" Carol said, taking another object from her sling-bag. "It looks like a stab wound. Has she been playing with broken glass outside?" It was a small round container. She opened it, placing the lid beside her. Inside was green paste.

"I guess so." For a moment, her eyes went up to try and look back at Samson. "She really is quite playful and naughty. Aren't you, Dubby?" Filia smirked at the cat. It communicated its annoyance towards Filia through a feline glare, having heard its nickname and being given a sort of mockery only fit for animals. It hissed at her, showing its tiny teeth with utter scorn towards Filia.

Carol laughed lightly. "See." Filia said.

She sealed the leafy bandage with the paste after wrapping it around the entire paw. "Maybe Dubby's misunderstood, like all aggressive animals" She then rubbed the neck of the cat again. "Isn't that right, Dubby?" The cat meowed perhaps in mutual agreement. "Now don't try and lick that bandage, the wound will heal in no time."

"That's pretty impressive..." Filia said as Carol stood up. Her eyes had not left the cat. "What kind of leaf does that?"

"It's a leaf from Caerpyis, a plant hybrid of Gerioustel and Aeon's Fingers. Mom taught me how to use it for first-aid and its flower is quite pretty too." said Carol. The cat circled her leg, rubbing its head against her socked ankle and letting the rest of her body touch it as she moved around. "Oh! It seems like it's starting to like me."

"You hungry? Anything you want to eat?" Filia offered, needing some sort of external interaction to put her head off the heavy thoughts that began to disturb her. She noticed that—at least, for her— the offer did not feel so selfless.

"Anything. Just, oh, careful kitty." Carol said, making her way towards the couch, stopping for a bit to not step on the cat and bump the glass coffee table. The creature continued to circle her ankles. "Just any snack will do."

Filia went to the kitchen counter, her back now turned at Carol. Meanwhile, Samson sent glares towards Double, barring his teeth as he looked down upon the shape-shifter. She looked back at him with small furry smiles as she navigated around Carol's ankles. "You're pretty good at this disguise game... Hmph, you still disgust me." Samson thought, sending the very disgust through his glare.

Filia faced the kitchen counter, back turned to Carol, and at an enough distance to whisper without her friend hearing. Carol sat on the couch, and the cat followed, placing its furred body on her lap. She grew fond of the small creature and continued on to play with it, gently caressing it and saying words like: "Who's a naughty Dubby? You are!" while touching its whiskered cheeks. Samson, witnessing all of this, couldn't imagine the discomfort Double was experiencing. He pitied and liked the sight of her suffering. 'Now you know what it's like to be around these kids...'. Not long after, Filia sighed and it took the attention of Samson.

"So what are we making?" Samson said in a low voice.

"Get some bread and jam from the fridge..." said Filia, beginning to take a spoon and a small plate from the counter's drawers.

"Another damned sandwich?" Samson began to move his tendrils towards the refrigerator, opening it lightly and taking the jam and a bread loaf with two outstretched arms.

The ingredients arrived in front of her at the counter, delivered by Samson's tendrils. Filia only looked at it and then whispered: "Oh, Samson I don't know what to do..."

"You don't know how to make a sandwich?!" Samson exclaimed in loud whisper.

"No, I..." She paused. "Come on, you know what I'm talking about."

"What? About the little secret? I know, kid. I can only tell you that you've got to keep it in."

"It's not _little_. Me turning into the Skull Girl isn't _little_." Filia snapped whispering. "And I'm trying, I'm trying." She worked with the jam-smothered spoon, spreading it upon the slice of bread. "But things feel different. I've never done this before..."

"Look, kid, stay calm, go about your girly stuff, and forget about Double and Venus. Carol doesn't have to know." He emphasized each word.

"When can she know? It doesn't feel right to hide it, Samson, you know I can't do this to her." She finished making the snack, closed the lid of the jam and placed the readied sandwich on the small plate.

"When it's the best time. And stop feeling bad about it, kid. You're going to spoil our last two weeks with her. Just make the most of it or things will screw up even more. It's that simple."

"Fine, I'll... I'll try." She said as she dropped the spoon into the sink and returned the jam back to the refrigerator. She had doubts in what she had said. Filia knows that there was no other choice but to hide the truth until it was inevitable. But, saying that meant doing all that was possible to keep Carol from knowing, lies or not. She did not want to hurt her, but she also did not want to lie to keep her unhurt. Saying it though, removed the kind of nervous weakness Filia had. She knows what to do, she thought, and she had to try.

After recollecting herself, Filia turned— her expression weakened by a frown— with the plate in hand.

"Good. And try harder." Samson said. Filia sighed and went on, putting up a lighter, less greeting smile, keeping the rest of her saddened expression in place.

Carol did not stop playing with 'Dubby'. Filia walked towards her and placed the plate at the coffee table. "Here it is." said Filia, trying her best to sound less worried. Carol stopped playing with the cat, the animal leaping down to the floor after being let go.

"Ooo, sandwich." Carol said, taking the plate. "Thanks."

"It's strawberry this time." said Samson. "Filia was about to take the same jam that we offered yesterday and the day before."

"What? Oh, don't believe him, Carol."

"The one yesterday was pretty fine. Hazelnut and all..." Carol took a big bite. She chewed and swallowed. "But this one's better!" And she bit on it again.

"See, I told you, kid. Strawberry wins over chocolate. Remember that. Buying overpriced jam wasn't so worthless after all."

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say, oh ancient parasite lord."

Samson loathed chocolate but swallowed that had anything to do with strawberry whole. His constant whining at how Filia's shopping cart was empty of anything strawberry finally paid off when she bought that one jar of jam a week ago. It made living with her less annoying for him. "And don't forget to thank me. I reserved that jam for myself." Carol didn't and continued eating the sandwich.

Filia watched her from beside the couch, not knowing what to discuss of. After deciding that everything she knows that Carol does not know has to be kept hidden, every kind or friendly action towards her clearly felt like obligations that she had to adhere to, to keep Carol from further noticing anything wrong. Speaking to her had to be sure, when before she can say away anything she had in mind like any close friend would. Fortunately, as she was finding something to discuss of, she remembered something Carol told her.

"So you said we were going to go somewhere today?"

Carol swallowed and spoke. "Actually, I was thinking about that now."

"I can guess that it is another fashion store or park or whatever place that all girls love to go to." said Samson, never missing the opportunity to let out his annoyed feelings.

"Nope, it's not anywhere else of the usual. Today, it's something real special." She then placed the plate on the coffee table. Nothing remained but crumbs. "And I want it to be a surprise." She looked at Filia, that same gentle smile on her face.

"So, um, let's get going!" Filia said. She did not want to prolong the conversation. "It shouldn't wait then!"

Carol stood up, cleaning her skirt off any crumbs that might have fell on it. "Of course, and we've got to make it quick. The sun is about to set."

They moved towards the door, Filia and Samson arriving there first. The cat, now rested under the coffee table, looked towards them as they began leaving. They stopped short as Carol stumbled on her cello case. "Woops, dropped this." She picked it up. Filia, who had already had her hand on the door knob, watched Carol as she took the heavy case.

'How can she carry it around like it's nothing to her?" Filia thought and it caused her to speak without thinking. "Carol," said Filia.

"Hm?" Her eyes met Filia's.

"Do you really need to bring that?" She glanced at the cello case.

She already had the case by both hands. When she saw the direction of Filia's glance, she looked down to the case. "Oh, this? Well..." She then looks up to Filia, her expression showing that something spawned in her mind and bugged her.

"Kid's right. That thing looked real heavy when it was outside of that tiny case and on your..." Samson did not want to continue, but said what he was going to say anyway. "Back..."

Samson stopped talking and Filia fell quiet. Silence surrounded the room. Carol did not speak. Samson shamefully removed himself of all words and thinking.

She realized that the past suffering was still a heavy thought, hard to speak of in a conversation and impossible to forget. The quiet broke when Filia felt the need to say something before anything else happened. "Uh, Samson..." she said.

"Oh..." The weight of what he mentioned fell into him. "We're not supposed to, uh, talk about that, right?"

After that was said, Filia sighed her disappointment towards Samson. 'You're really never one for sentimental stuff, but at least give her some decency.' Filia thought and that thought took enough space in her head to put away the other disturbances in her head.

Carol had looked away from them, cello case still in hand, unable to let go just yet. Her smile weakened and her mind caught itself thinking too much. Silence returned and neither Samson nor Filia knew what to say.

Finally, she spoke. "It's... hard to forget, isn't it? Even I think so too." And as Carol said it, Filia slowly removed her hand from the doorknob. "The labs and all. Painwheel..."

"Oh, Carol, I'm just saying that, that... that you've been bringing... well, _that_ with you all the time for the past weeks."

She stammered as she began. "I don't know, Filia, it used to be a part of me. I feel safe with it."

There was a moment's pause. Without a thought, Filia walked back to her, then, suddenly, placed an arm over Carol's neck and shook her with cheer. "Samson and I are all the safety you need. If we can beat the monster in that small case, we can beat anything. Right, Samson?"

"As much as I hate to admit it with the kid, yeah, she's right."

"But that monster was once me." Carol said, and instead of being cheered by her friend, further allowed memories to weigh down her mind. "And she was the anger that kept me alive."

"I don't agree." Filia got in front of her and brought both her hands to Carol's shoulders.

Filia looked at Carol's face and waited for her to look back before she spoke. It took a while until Carol finally did just that, even with some visible reluctancy. The X-marked scar on her face truly showed itself, even the stitches that once held the mask in place— starting from the hairline, crossing through her eyes, meeting at the center, and ending by the sides of the jawline. Yet, no matter how scarred, Carol only continued to soften her own expression, and— even with the scar over her face— showed just how much innocence was hurt behind the unstoppable fury of Painwheel. Filia witnessed all of it, and, seeing her friend still pained by scars, noticed exactly what her wish meant to end.

"Carol," said Filia. "Carol, listen. You're not Painwheel, and you never were. You're always Carol. Always the Carol I know, the one who loves the scent of flowers, who tenders a garden at home, who drinks tea every morning, and talks tirelessly of things Samson wouldn't want to hear."

"Umm... Genocide, mass murder? Those are things I wouldn't want to-"

"Quiet." Filia said with haste and Samson followed, muttering a 'sorry' after. "The point is, Painwheel isn't you, Carol. I don't call you that."

Carol thought for a moment before continuing on. "Then who is Painwheel? Who was she?"

Filia was near to saying her friend's name, but, pulled herself to the answer in her head. "She was nobody. It's only a name. You've gotten a new life since your release from the ASG Labs. It's time we start over, Carol, move away from the past suffering. And it starts when you let go of that name, and I promise, _I promise_ I will help you."

Before she knew it, all worries escaped her and she abandoned all thought of Double or The Trinity. If there was one true thing she meant, at least for today, it would be what she had said, and Filia knew it well; she felt its truth, and it was, maybe, the only truth coming from her that she could ever bear to hear since that wish. It was not long until the constant smile of Carol erased the weakness in her expression and returned to Filia's relief.

As sudden as Filia wrapped her arm around Carol's neck a moment ago, Carol embraced her, holding her tight, catching her by complete surprise. She had let go of the cello case doing this, and it landed with a clattering slam to the ground, forgotten as its owner embraced her friend.

"Oh jeez, not like this... Oh no..." Samson said. He too was caught in her embrace and did not like this kind of closeness that was not meant for him. "You girls are walking bags of emotion. I shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. Damn me..."

"Thank you, Fil. Thank you. It's like... Everything and everyone was taken away from me, and..." She could not continue, beginning to choke on a sob, and retreating her face down to Filia's shoulder. "You just stayed..."

Filia let herself sink in to the comfort of her embrace, placing a hand up to Carol's back, and in turn, exchanging her own embrace. "Shh... I'm here." and she thought: 'I could say the same... only... only a bit differently...' And she then thought of the wish. And she too, wanted to cry, cry because she slowly began to realize the true price of her bargain with the goddesses. It will be her own fault, she realized, and that this embrace will never happen again after fourteen days. It was at that point, she sank her own head to Carol's shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Filia said, beginning a sob.

"Sorry for what? It's not your fault..."

"I'm sorry... It doesn't... It doesn't matter what for. I'm sorry. I'm just... just... sorry. Okay? Just forgive me before I forget."

"What are you talking about?" Carol said, pulling her face out of Filia's shoulder. "I'll always forgive you. For anything."

"Thank you..." Then she continued on to sob into her shoulder. Filia had little hope for her forgiveness. "Let's not forget each other, no matter what we'll turn into."

"You've done that to me. And I'll do it for you." Carol said. They continued their embrace, waiting until their sobs fade away, enjoying the comfort while they were still together.

"Ugh, you two are so dramatic." Samson said. "And can you please stop crying now? It's like a soap opera in here. Hurry up before someone says 'cut' out of nowhere."

The embrace broke as they let go. They saw each other's crying faces, they laughed seeing their faces as they wiped their eyes and noses. "Let's go." Filia said.

"Oh right, right, right." Carol said, wiping her eyes. Her smile had removed the sad tone of a voice after crying.

"Been a while since I've cried." Filia said. "And Samson, can't you get over that guy saying 'cut'?"

"Not this again, kid. I told you, every time we beat someone up, be it that nurse, that nun, or Marie... I keep hearing it."

"I'll tell you again, I've never heard it. You must be crazy, Samson." Filia said.

"Whatever... and if that's true, then it's the cause of being attached to some crazy girl's head."

He was no longer replied to as Carol said: "So, we should get going." And Filia nodded.

They faced the door and they moved on. The door opens, and they left, trailing off as Carol says: "Oh, have you heard? Cirque de Cartes is returning from their tour in Dagonia..." which placed them into a conversational easiness that allowed them to finally speak what they had in mind without discomfort(especially for Filia). In a moment, she've forgotten the situation at hand and the message brought by Double, but it lay there behind her head, and instead of being a good reason to distract her, became a good reason for her to fulfill her fresh promise.

And Filia left, her mind rest assured that she had said what she needed to say before anything was too late. Double, still in her cat form, watched them leave, and once the door shut in front of her, moved away from the table, and morphed back into the nun she always was. There, she stood, her face blank of anything but a bored frown.

"Pitiful." She said. "How pitiful..." She waited for a moment, then, after being sure that two had enough time to take the elevator and leave, morphed into a different person and left, locking the door shut behind her.

* * *

AN: I'm sorry for the small fluff up there, if it is bothersome. Well, expect more and more action after this, because I believe this is where the story rollercoaster slowly starts to go up. Oh, and thank you to those who reviewed, no matter how few. At least I know someone appreciates this, heh heh.

So, thanks for reading this one, see you people on the next chapter.

Another Note: I am planning to change the first chapter(The Prologue). I personally think it's seems bit tasteless and not a good way to start(in my terms) and I've written a new prologue and I might even write a new second chapter(as it is somewhat connected to the prologue. I would only polish it up and make minor changes anyway). The new prologue is written in Carol's first person perspective as she is stuck in the darkness, written in the same way as how I write every introducing stanza.

So, I first want to know if you, dear readers whom I write this story for, would allow me to change it. Please let me know, if you agree or disagree, through a PM or a review. Thank you again.


	6. An Invitation For: Enjoyment and Fear

**An Invitation For: ****Enjoyment and Fear**

_Slumber_

_From above_

_Sounded cheer and music_

_And from below the ground_

_Were two souls, sl__eeping _

_And waiting._

* * *

As they walked at the streets of New Meridian and conversed about the very topics that Samson wouldn't feel obliged to take part in, they moved towards the yet unknown 'special' place Carol had spoken of and that still remains a surprise to Filia. The sun was already lowering itself down, bringing a dying orange to the tint of the atmosphere. People of all races: humans, Dagonians, and half-human/Dagonians moved past the two girls, wearing trench-coats, two-piece suits, buttoned shirts, and, for the ladies, fitted trench-coats, dresses, blouses and petticoats.

They would spare the duo a moment's glance at times(and, to some, glares) and walk past with their own business. It is well known in Canopian society, that hosts to any sort of parasites are a shunned people of taboo. To other people, having a parasite is a sign of giving up your own blood to acquire a mutual benefactor who would strip you of your original biology in exchange for a new ability. _That _reason is for the people of class and intelligence, but for the ignorant, they can say that hosts are merely different, fearsome, or uglier, likeable to the more popular opinions shared towards Dagonians as well. But the _classy_ reason is the reason that makes hosts more shunned than Dagonians. They are tolerated at least, save for the occasional mockeries and bias, but nothing too violent ever happened. For Filia, Samson, and Carol, that would be enough treatment.

"So why are we crossing through New Meridian?" Filia asked through a beep of a nearby car horn. Her voice lowered. "You know this place is quite edgy to people like us."

"It's on the other side of town from your district, see." Carol said. "Where it's less city-like."

After exchanging glares with a nearby Dagonian, Samson spoke. "Why can't you just tell us where we're going?"

"As I've said, Samson, I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh, right, because anything new should be a surprise." Samson said in sarcasm.

Someone was running from the end of the sidewalk. The duo hadn't noticed him, busy conversing. The person, wearing a hat and a suit, stopped in front of them.

"Are you Filia?" The stranger said, halting both of them. The voice turned out to be female.

The two hadn't answered yet, confused for a moment. "I said, are you Filia?" She looked up from her shades, past the fringes of her blue hair, meeting the eyes of the young schoolgirl.

Filia's eyes moved left and right. She remembered what Venus said: people are watching her. "Umm..." She started.

"Don't talk to strangers kid..." Samson muttered.

"Why do you ask?" Filia said, managing to smile.

"It's not important." The stranger answered. "Now I know it's you." She took something out of her pocket, then pulled Filia's hand, and placed a folded letter on her palm. She winked at her, showing off a diamond painted on her cheek. "Good-bye." Then she left, so quickly that the two were dumbfounded as she left running. Both of them turned to see her but she had already been quite far.

"Woah, that was some weird stuff." Samson said, still watching her until she had taken a right and gotten out of his view. "What'd she give you?"

"A letter." Filia brought it up to her. It was closed with a jewel molded into a purple waxen seal.

"From who?" Carol said, looking at the piece of paper.

They moved nearer to a wall before Filia begun to read it. "I'm not sure. Nobody has ever given me a letter." She opened it, Samson helping her with his tendril as a letter-opener. "It's from someone named Mr. V." The characters were finely made in curvaceous calligraphy and the lines conveniently spaced.

_Dear Filia,_

_You have been invited to our most auspicious event at the Grand Central Stadium. You were picked from a random selection made from a list of registered citizens in the Civil Archives and you are now hereby allowed to enter Cirque de Cartes greatest return to Canopy Kingdom yet. This is a generous offer and there is no compensation from your part. You may pick anyone, even non-humans, to come with you, free of charge. All payments fined will be paid for, so long as this letter is shown with its seal. _

_Please, do not miss this wonderful chance to see the world's greatest show tonight at 6 and a half PM. We kindly expect you to be there._

'_... signed, Mr. V.'_ Filia read.

"Who the hell is Mr. V?" said Samson. "And what's with having some weird courier give it to us?"

"Filia!' Carol shook her, having just finished reading it. "We've got to see this! It's five-thirty, we can make it!"

She closed the letter and spoke as she placed it inside her chest pocket. "I don't know, Carol..." Filia said, the thought of Venus's message still lingering. "You said we needed to go somewhere."

"That can wait for a day." said Carol. "But this can't! Come on, I really love their shows! I've seen it in the web! Only the rich ever get to see them live or enter their circus!"

Filia considered for a moment, then sighed and decided. "Fine, let's get go see them."

"Oh thank you, thank you, Fil!" Carol said, hugging her arm then letting go. They went off, Carol with a wide smile, Filia still unsure of her safety, and Samson expecting anything to happen. Eventually, Samson saw something following them. It was the black cat, walking by the foot of the walls, its eyes watching Filia as it moved. Samson wanted to tell Filia about it, but she was too busy speaking with Carol. He decided not to mind their _covert_ bodyguard for now. 'That creepy nun won't leave us alone...' He thought. 'At least she's small enough to get run over by a car.'

* * *

It was in front of them, the largest stadium in the whole world, located north of New Meridian. It was roughly as tall as half of the Medici tower and so wide that a whole town could prosper within its massive walls. Spotlights were traveling aimlessly around the sky and people from the highest class of Canopian society were flocking to the entrances, arriving in limousines, sports cars, and hovercraft vehicles. Bright holographic screens line the walls, showing advertisements of all kinds, but the screen that had the largest message was situated at the stadium's main frontage, showing: T_he Greatest Carnival and Show in the World, Cirque De Cartes!_

Filia and Carol had made it at exactly six. All the rich men and woman were lined up in a long queue that outstretched the line fence leading to the ticketing station. All of them were dressed in formal attires— some even holding canes and wearing hats— and conversing about 'mature' matters that the three found boring . They moved on to the start of the line, just behind a woman wearing a peach colored dress and a feathered toque.

"Wow, all of the people look so... neat." Carol said to Filia, marveling at the elaborate dresses of some women.

"I know right? We look like aliens to these pampered folks." Samson said in a more low voice. The people who just entered the line met it with some shock and fear as they saw two middle class girls in the queue, one of which carried a monstrous face on the back of her head. Mumbles surrounded the back of them, and Samson saw one pass some discreet comment to the other while looking at them. "Noisy brats... You're all like that snake... in language, in tone, hmph, even in face..." He murmured.

The line moved by two people. "It feels uncomfortable around these guys..." said Filia. "It's like we're not meant to be here."

"They're all looking at us, kid." said Samson. "Whispering who knows what."

"You two new at this place?" said a female. It was from the woman in front of them. They both looked to her, who had slightly turned herself to see them. "You don't look like you've dressed for this occasion, my dears."

She had a glittering golden mask over her face. "Yes, ma'm." said Filia. "We are, and we haven't had the time to do that. We were invited here by someone named-"

"I see... I'd mind your manners here, children. Only the wealthy ever have the privilege to enter this stadium." She said. "And don't pay attention to those people behind you. They're too used to formal looks and normal people."

"Yes, ma'm, we will." Filia said, not minding the interruption. Carol looked at Filia with some confusion and only shrugged her shoulders after.

She turned forward. It was the woman's turn to approach the ticketing station. A man sat behind a counter with the gates leading indoors to his left and right. All it needed was for her to show herself to the man for her entrance to be granted. She moved on to the station's right gate, automatically opening as she approached it.

The girls moved onward. The man behind the viewing glass of the station raised his eyebrows at the two(three, counting Samson) unusual guests and expected a ticket to be slid onto the counter. Filia took the letter along with its seal out of her chest pocket and showed it to the man, to which he pressed a button and gestured for them to go to the left gate. They followed, the gate opening, then they entered a dimly lit corridor.

"And I thought one weirdo was enough..." Samson said as they walked.

They met the end of the corridor, where another gate opened for them. Lively vintage music filled their ears, and there, at the fields of the stadium, was a circus complete with rides and entertainment. There was a large roller-coaster by the far end, a hall of mirrors to the right, a viking ship just near the two, stalls of different games in front of the center, and even a royal casino beside a tall haunted house. Restaurants were situated near souvenir shop and people scattered to all of the attractions the circus had to offer. At the very middle, stood out a tall and wide tent, its cloth spotted with repeating symbols of every suite in a deck of cards. On the front entrance of the tent, was a hologram, with numbers counting down from '0:28:53'

"So we have twenty-eight minutes before the main show begins..." Carol said, bringing up her wrist watch, setting a timer. "I'll just make this thing count it down..."

"It's amazing how they can set up this thing so quickly..." Filia said, taking a good view of this place, the lights flashing past her eyes. "I don't remember the last time I've been to a circus..."

"Well, come on, kid!" Samson said. "Let's go check out some of the rides!"

"We should try out the haunted house!" Carol said. They begun walking. "And then some stall games!" Then they ventured onward to the circus, hurrying their way past the wealthy throng and heading to the bazaar of stall games around the middle tent.

The stall games were strange. When Filia and Carol arrived to one, no prizes were hung like in any other circus, but instead, there hung signs showing prizes given in cash. The two girls were puzzled but decided to try one involving throwing a ball and knocking out a stack of cups. "So if we knock all the cups, we win a hundred bones?" Carol asked.

"That's right, little kid." The operator, a tall man in a striped shirt, said. "Three strikes and the cash is all yours. We can even transfer it to your bank account, if you have one."

"Don't you have any other prizes? Like stuffed animals or sweets?" Filia said.

"What you think this is an ordinary circus, tentacle head?" He said. "This is Cirque de Cartes! The circus of cards! A circus for the rich! If you're here for prizes like that then you're wasting your ticket!"

"Give it a shot, kid" Samson said. "We might just get more grocery budget after this."

"Alright, I'll give it a try..."

"Now we're talking!" The man said. "Ten bones a shot."

"And what if we have this?" Filia showed him the letter.

He froze, staring at it for a moment. "Damn cheaters..." He mumbled, looking to his right. "You get unlimited tries, you happy?." He said, annoyed.

"Hell yeah!" Samson said. "Come on, give me a ball! I'm gonna make us dirty rich!"

The operator took a ball from under the counter and gave it to Filia. "Just don't empty this stall." He said, before going to the sides and pressing a button. Lights shined upon three stacks of cups, placed together like pyramids.

The ball was rather heavy. Filia herself thought it was made out of concrete or stone. The operator smiled at her and snickered a bit. "Um... on second thought..." She said, then faced Carol. "You go first, Carol." She gave her the ball.

"Alright." She took it, having no difficulty whatsoever carrying the concrete ball.

Carol raised it behind her, her modified muscles showing out as she readied. The operator's eyes went wide open, seeing the amount of muscle Carol actually had. After a moment of aiming, she threw it straight at the first stack, knocking it down as the ball darted straight to its bottom. The whole stall tent shook as the ball collided with the cloth. _"Twenty bones!"_ sounded an automated speaker from the back of the stall.

The operator stared at the destroyed stack and gave another ball to Carol without looking or thinking. "Holy crap..." Samson said.

Carol threw another, breaking down the middle stack, shaking the tent again. _"Fifty bones!"_ The operator was now conscious and stared at Carol with the next ball in his hand. "Well?" Carol said, bringing out her palm. The operator gave it to her wordlessly. One last aim, and she threw it, the cups flying out, one narrowly dodged by the operator. The tent shook and the speaker sounded with a shout: _"One hundred bones!"_

The operator got out of ducking. Filia smiled at him and let out her hand. He slowly took out the bills from under the counter and gave it to her without another word. "Thanks!" Then they left giggling, Samson giving the man a raspberry chuckling after, and Carol placing the bills neatly inside her sling bag.

"We got about twenty minutes left." Carol said, after checking her watch. "We should..." She gasped, then pointed to their right. "There it is! The haunted house!"

"Doesn't look too spooky." Samson said.

"Not until we get inside." Carol replied. "Come on, let's go!" Then she pulled Filia's wrist and hurried along with her to the entrance. The queue was somewhat empty. Perhaps the rich folk found no entertainment in being scared. But this was to Carol's delight, so they continued, stopping for Filia to show the letter with its seal to the operator.

"The safe-word is 'Hopscotch'" The operator said.

They continued in, now in a dark corridor, completely dark,with a door at the very end. They can hear wicked laughs echoing from the distance. It shook them a bit. "Wow, this is sooooo scary." Samson said. They walked forward, hearing more of the laughs. Filia felt something grip onto her arm. She was about to scream but found that it was only Carol, which caused her momentary fear to turn into relief.

They were nearly half-way in the corridor. It's silent now. The laughs have ceased and the ambient cold air and the tapping of their footsteps were the only sounds.

"Uh... guys..." Samson said.

"What is it, Samson?!" Filia said in whisper.

"I got a feeling someone's following us." He said. "There's someone walking towards us and it's not some guest..."

"Samson, don't joke like that." Carol said, gripping tighter to Filia, who is now shaken as well.

"I'm not kidding." Samson said, the truth was in the shaking of his own voice. Their paces became quicker. "Hurry up, kid, she's moving in a lot faster..." Indeed, Samson wasn't lying, they could hear this person's footsteps. Their walks became strides, and finally, a wailing scream came from behind them, causing them to scream in return and run as quick as they can to the door. The person behind them was running as well. The thing screamed again and this time Samson screamed too.

They reached the door. It's locked. Filia tried again and again to twist the doorknob. Carol would not look behind her, scared out of her mind. Filia took a glance and saw the face of the thing following them. It was a hag, her skin wrinkled and wart-ridden, her teeth tusk-like, her chin pointed up like a crescent, and her eyes bulging, black goo seeping from the sides of the lids. Filia screamed and tried again to twist the knob. Carol continued to clench her eyes and not look behind her.

The hag began to laugh, approaching them slowly, her whole hunched figure shown under the blue glow. She reached out her sickly hands, Samson only stared at her, eyes-wide stricken with fear. Before she caught them, the door opened, and Filia and Carol fell inside, the door shutting behind them. The door pounded along with screams from the other side. They stood up, relieved for a second. After almost a minute, the pounding and screaming stopped and there was once again silence.

"Phew," Samson said. "That was close."

The girls caught their breaths for a second. The room they were in was dark past the bluish glow of the door. Two flashlights rolled in front of them, already turned on. Carol took one and Filia gave hers to Samson. They scanned the room with the lights and found that this was some sort of dungeon. A large dungeon. It smelled rancid and the air felt so cold that it shivered their skin.

"I'm starting to think that this is a mistake..." Samson said. "And that flower girl is crazy for pulling us in here."

"Shh, Samson..." Filia said. "Do you hear that?" They listened in. It was the sound of weak moaning and air escaping someone's mouth. They shined their flashlights to the left and right. There were people, shackled to the walls, bleeding with their hairs covering their faces. And all of them were alive.

"Filia," Carol held tightly to her arm again. "I don't like this place."

"We've got to keep going, Carol..." Filia said. She took a step and begun walking.

"Even I don't too, kid..." said Samson. Their flashlights focused on the end of this room, where there was a torch at the center of a T-crossing. Sometimes, Samson would allow himself to beam a light to one chained person, only to find him watching them. He assumed that everyone else was watching them. "Can we hurry our walking?" He said. "They're all looking."

They did so. "Would you stop mentioning what's going on behind us?" Filia said. The sound of chains clanging together stopped them. There was a metallic pop, as if someone's chains broke loose, and the sound of the padding of naked feet filled the room. They hurried on, and the more they made progress, the more chains released. They begun to run and now footsteps were sounding, accompanied by moans and incoherent speaking.

They reached the T-Crossing. One sign pointed to the left saying: "Temple" and the other pointed to the right saying: "Laboratory."

Carol looked behind her and saw the crowd of bleeding men and women, their arms outstretched towards them. She screamed and let go of Filia, darting off to her right. "Carol!" Filia shouted. The crowd was nearing her, closing in from her right.

"HURRY THE HELL UP, DEAD BRAIN!" Samson yelled. Filia quickly made her way to the left and opened the door, closing it shut behind her. Hands were sliding on the wood of the door from the other side, the knob twisting at times, but to Filia's relief, it would not open.

She took a moment to breathe then looked around her. It was not pitch-black like the last rooms. The room had light and strangely looked awfully familiar. Filia walked in and slowly began to recognize this place. There were benches lined on both sides of an aisle leading to an altar. Light entered through windows, shining like divine beams from the outside.

"The Grand Cathedral..." Filia said.

"Or what it looked like before it got torn down..." Samson said, looking around himself. Filia moved on to the aisle, her shoes meeting red carpet. Behind the altar, were three windows, decorated with fresco artwork of each of the Grand Trinity's goddesses. From left to right: Aeon, The Divine Mother, and Venus. Filia made her way to the altar to get a closer look at them.

"So this is what those immortal brats look like." Samson said. Filia stopped inspecting the windows.

There was sobbing from behind them, causing Filia to turn and look. It was a red-haired woman, wearing a long gray robe, weeping as she sat by the nearest bench to the altar. "Oh no, I'm not gonna let the scary part begin." Samson said. "Kid, look for an exit!" Filia did but found none. The only door was from where they came.

"I can't find one." She said, whispering, still watching the woman weep.

"What?!" Samson said. "Come on, anything! Look for-"

Filia hushed him. "I think she's trying to say something."

"Help me..." she said. She stood up, letting one hand out to Filia. "Please help me..." Filia took a step back. The woman walked towards her, her face worn from crying. "I need your help... Don't you know me?"

"Queen Nancy Renoir..." Filia said. "But you're dead, you turned into-"

"Please..." She said, now a few feet in front of Filia. "I can't control it." She gaped and quivered as if something hit her straight in the stomach. "It's too powerful..."

Filia rushed to her and attempted to help her up despite knowing that this is could be part of the attraction. "I made a mistake... To my people, to my kingdom..."

"What?" Filia said. "But you've-"

"Please, child, help me... I... The Heart..." Filia's face paled. "The Heart is taking me...I'm turning into the element of an endless cycle... Child..." Then she quivered again, coughing this time, her face evident with pain. Filia could not speak. The queen looked up to her and spoke with difficulty. "My time is little... I'm transforming... transforming into..."

Filia let go of her, causing Nancy to fall to the ground. "The Skull Girl..." Filia whispered. Her eyes widened and her face froze in utter fear. She took steps back until her back met the wall.

She heard cackles, and the cackles become laughs. It came from the queen, her back bouncing up with every laugh. Her face turned up, a wide smile upon it, then Filia saw red eyes, the pupils turned into the shape of a skull. Her body left the ground, now levitating, blue flames erupting from her back. The skin of her arms flew off, leaving only the bare skeleton. Her laughs were accompanied by something deep and demonic, and all Filia did, was watch. This was her fate. And the fear was unbearable.

The cathedral around them was torn, the walls and windows releasing from their foundations as she rose up, sucking in all material like a black hole. Around Filia was a battleground, littered with dead bodies. Her eyes traveled, seeing the corpses, all mutilated in some way by the Skull Girl, who would not stop laughing. She let her hand up, where a blue flame erupted. Forks of the azure fire spread out through the battlefield, entering the bodies of the dead. Then they rose, mindlessly moaning, and laughing along with the Skull Girl. From a distance, Filia can hear screams, gunfire, cries for help by other people who have survived. Wind howled around her and the smell of smoke filled the air.

Filia faced up, and found that Queen Nancy was no longer there, but there was now the Skull Heart itself, its empty eye sockets facing down to her.

And there she screamed: "HOPSCOTCH!" And the blue light of the skull died. She was in darkness again. All sounds stopped. A door was in front of her. On top of it, a sign shone: 'Exit'.

* * *

Carol shut the door behind her. She took her breaths and allowed some relief to come to her.

The entire room was pitch-black and the flashlight she had stopped lighting. She banged it against the wall a few times but the light wouldn't return. Suddenly, gas seeped from out of the vents of the room and she smelled the fumes. It was so familiar... She felt sleepy. The more she whiffed it the more drowsy she became. She swore that she can remember this gas, but could no longer recall as she fell to the ground, her eyes closing.

She woke up. It smells clean, like in a hospital, but she could not breathe easily. Her arms and feet are restrained. There was a bright light above her, an operating light. The realization took her and she could not stop breathing heavily. She can hear tools moving from her right side, someone searching for something metal. She saw someone to her left, just staring at her. All this was familiar. Too familiar. Though the person to her left had a shadowed face, she saw the faint image of an iron mask over it. She was terrified.

"Patient is now ready for forced surgery." Said a woman. "Without anesthetics."

Carol screamed, pulling herself from the restraints, but her strength could not break it. The man to her left stepped forward, revealing himself, and he did have an iron mask. Though it wasn't exactly worn by the one she feared, it reminded her so heavily of it, especially with the bright red glow of its eyepieces. "NO!" Carol screamed. "NO, NO, NO, NO! STOP!" She saw the glint of a scalpel graze her eye from her right. A surgical machine from above moved forward above her face. It had all sorts of sharp and blunt tools hanging from it, and to its right, it held something over her Carol's face. The shape of what it held horrified her. It was the silhouette of a mask almost exactly the same as the one she had removed long ago.

A tinge of rage jolted inside her. She pulled against the restraints, her body dragging itself to all directions as she pulled. She grunted as her skin and muscle pressed against the restraints, and the grunts became yells, and soon she was barring her teeth at the surgeons. Then she remembered. This was where Painwheel began. The fear of being that monster again overtook her.

Past the calamity of her thoughts, she remembered the safe-word.

"HOPSCOTCH!" She yelled with all the air left in her lungs. The operating light died and the restrains released. The table where she was set upon pushed forward, sliding her down to a chute. She fell down and felt someone else with her.

"Who is this?!" Carol said.

"It's me!" Filia replied.

"Calm the heck down, flower girl!" Samson said.

"Thank goodness..." Carol said. She sounded exhausted as Filia was. She caught sight of the 'exit' sign. "So this is the end of it, is it?"

"Yeah, finally." Samson said. "Let's get the heck out of this hell-hole."

"I'll do the honors." Carol said, calmed down. She took the knob, twisted, then opened, the carnival scene now in front of them. Finally, it was over.

They moved outside, closing the door behind them. To their far right was the entrance queue. "Wow, it looks smaller on the outside." Filia said. To their right, a machine on a skeleton pillar flashed pictures of them as they made their way into the haunted house.

"Hey, Fil, look!" Carol said, bringing her to the picture viewer. There were pictures of Carol's face, contorted as she was screaming at the first room, and then Filia's face as she glanced behind her and saw the hag . They laughed as they saw each faces, pointing at them as each looked funny.

Then flashed videos, small clips of them inside the house, the first few scenes were still watchable, but as they approached the end of their journey inside, discomfort arrived.

First shown Filia's, a small clip of her being approached by Queen Nancy, and then her backing away from the Skull Girl-turning queen. As the queen rose and became the Skull-Girl, the clip changed and flashed on towards Carol's scene, where she was placed upon an operating table, struggling against the restraints and shouting at the doctors. Carol did not want to look. She had buried her face on Filia's upper arm while holding her friend's hand. Filia tilted her head to Carol's and rubbed her shoulder. She knew what that scene meant to her.

The machine finally stopped showing moments of their session after sounding a recorded audio of their voices shouting 'hopscotch' in unison. The very terror of their voice sounded through the speakers. The machine ended with a message saying 'Have a terrific day!'. Carol had let go of Filia, making a sigh after.

"This wasn't spooky." Filia said. "This was horrifying."

"Yeah, agreed." Carol said. "This was way over the top."

"Hey, at least it wasn't one of those corny ones that just makes automated skeletons appear out of nowhere." Samson said as they began to turn their backs on the haunted house. "This was legitimate fear."

"Right, Samson, right..." Carol replied. "And legitimate trauma." She checked her watch. "Five minutes!" Carol said, lively again. "We've got to buy some popcorn and make it there!" They moved on towards the middle tent— which now had its own spotlights shining from below it— with Carol pulling Filia behind her.

"The main attraction will begin in five minutes!" sounded an announcer through the vintage music.

They carried on, "Come on, Fil! I can't wait to see Cerebella and her gang!"

* * *

AN: Anyone got the Corpse Bride reference? A showdown awaits next chapter and you can guess the combatants.

Anyway, this was made in a small rush. Please forgive any typo errors that I've overlooked for now. I'll get back to this tomorrow after I'm done with some more important stuff that I need doing. Oh, and please don't forget my extra note in the last chapter. I'm awaiting a reply.

Thank you again to those who have reviewed. I feel a surge of deep satisfaction knowing that I've entertained others with this story. And thank you for reading this chapter. I'll see you guys on the next one.

To snake screamer: Squigly, yes, I think she'll have a major role once she jumps in here (the opening part of this chapter is, well, you know, about her and Leviathan). But let's not expect her to be nice and gentle to Filia, who is a Medici heiress and a soon-to-be Skull Girl, two of the same demons responsible for Squigly's family incident. Samson and Leviathan pretty much hate each other too. As for the others mentioned, like Big Band and Eliza, I still haven't _looked into_ their story lines, but I believe they've got potential, so I'll see what they can cause when they're in this.


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